


Archangels and Librarians - take 2

by LadyMarianne123



Category: Dominion (TV), Lucifer (TV), The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMarianne123/pseuds/LadyMarianne123
Summary: Archangel Rafael tells a story to Flynn Carsen and the other Librarians about what happened after the end of the "Archangel's dilema"





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One - a visitor to the Library

Flynn walked into the annex holding a paper bag in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Stone and Jones trailed behind him, making their usual jokes at each others expense. The team had been gone from the Annex for hours, out to see a local pawnshop owner about a ceramic cat statue that supposedly had come to life and attacked his son. The story had popped up on social media on one of the websites Jones perused on occasion. It had taken more time to find the store than it had to deal with the issue. As it had turned out the story was all a massive joke being played on the owner's son by one of his fraternity brothers who was a student of special effects. Flynn was not looking forward to returning to the Library after such an obvious wild goose chase. Baird had said she doubted the story (especially since it had NOT appeared in the clippings book) but the Library had been so quiet lately Flynn had been willing to take a chance. "Well - let that be a lesson to us, Librarians. Unless the clippings book says it's an issue - is isn't one."

Stone and Jones both rolled their eyes at their leader's words. "Baird is going to have a cow when she finds out how much you spend on that bloody statue." Stone muttered, motioning to the bag in Flynn's hand. "You paid the dude thirty dollars for a replica of an Egyptian cat statue that I'm pretty sure I saw on one of the lower levels of the library. And I've seen it for sale in a thrift shop for five bucks. She's going to have your hide."

The Librarian looked down at his hand with a start, having totally forgotten he was still carrying the item he had purchased - before he had realized it wasn't "as advertised". "Yes - well, maybe Cassandra will like it for her desk" he replied lamely. 

"Either way - Baird's going to be mad." Jones said with a smile. He pulled his tablet out of his pocked and started to swipe through the various apps, looking for his copy of the clippings book - just to be sure.

"Mad about what?" Baird's voice echoed from the direction of Jenkins workroom. Behind her were the Librarians Caretaker Jenkins and Cassandra, who had chosen to stay behind, stood waiting for an answer. "Let me guess - no cat artifact?"

"Well - no. Actually..."

"Actually I was right about the story. Come on, Skippy, you can say it. Eve was right."

"Hey guys" Jones said, urgently, stopping in his tracks. "Internal sensors have been tripped. Something or someone is waiting for us in the meeting room."

"We didn't hear an alarm" Cassandra whispered, staring down the hall.

"Yeah - that's strange. None of the alarms are sounding - the Library has disabled them. It's almost like...Like maybe the Library allowed whoever it is to come in."

"Why would it do that?" Stone asked, incredulous. 

"Let's find out." Flynn fell into step with Baird as they crossed the hall quickly and stepped into the large meeting area with the others taking up the rear. In the center room their new table stood covered in books and manuscripts. Their old table had been shattered by an angry archangel and the current one had only been in place for a month and while not as old or as long, it was serving its purpose well enough. And standing beside it was their "guest" - a tall (well over six feet) and burly figure dressed in green robes and with large, black wings (tinged with dark emerald) fluttering gently behind him. He was flipping randomly through an herbalists textbook, head cocked as he read through the descriptions. "Hello?" Flynn said, quietly, making a mental note that "this" angel hadn't come into his home armed, looking for battle.

The angel turned, his dark brown eyes sparkling as he swept them over the group. "Hello" he replied, his voice having a distinctive Aussie accent similar to Jones. "I'm assuming you are the Librarians?"

"Yes" Flynn replied, moving forward closer. "And you would be...?"

"Archangel Rafael" he said with a smile. "I believe you've met my brother Michael?"

"Archangel Rafael, whose name means 'God Heals', the angel most associated with healing and thought to be one of the three angels who appeared to Abraham in the grove.." Flynn began, winding up for a lecture. 

Baird nudged her partner with an elbow to the ribs. "Yes, we have met Michael. And he mentioned his brothers but he seemed to think..."

"That we were dead" Rafael said sadly. "I know, it wasn't a very good time for us."

Cassandra smiled welcomingly up at the towering angel. "We've been worried about how things have been with him and with Arthur and Rowan and Khan..." her voice skittered to a stop at the sadness in the angel's eyes. "They are alright, aren't they? I mean, we haven't seen them in months and..."

"My brothers are home at the foot of our Father's throne as we all should be but the young ones..." he stopped, hesitating. "We none of us have seen them since they set out on their quest to bring an end to the forces plaguing Vega."

"Arthur was here but a few short months ago" Jenkins interjected, stepping forward. "He seemed fine - if a little annoyed with me. Rowan and Khan were with him."

Rafael sighed in relief. "Thank Father - at least someone knows they are well." His eyes took in the glow from the older man with interest. "You would be the knight of Camelot my brother Amenadiel mentioned? Galahad - who was friend to the young Firebird King?"

"I have that honor sir" Jenkins replied gravely, one hand to his heart.

"Perhaps then you have seen more of him than the others/" Rafael asked urgently.

"You mean you can't see them from Heaven?" Baird quizzed. 

"Though they, like all of his creations, are never out of the sight of our Heavenly Father the Triad has chosen to make themselves invisible to my brothers and I." Rafael's feathers trembled in anger. "They none of them can know how much their actions have hurt the angels who love them best."

"Then they didn't tell you...?" Cassandra began, catching her breath as the angel's eyes moved back to her.

"Told us what? That our Father has allowed their previous incarnations to be erased from time, to be replaced with lives not led in our care? Yes, little Librarian, they told us. Though not because they wanted to. The three of them were content to allow us to go blindly into battle without the knowledge of what had been done to them. To put our very existences in jeopardy thinking we were sacrificing it all for them - only to find out that "they" - our young ones - no longer existed." Rafael tossed the book he had been holding angrily on the desk. "Had it not been for a chance encounter in front of a dry fountain between myself and brother Seraphiel we none of us would have know what had happened until the battle was over and they had disappeared again into the ether."

"That doesn't sound like Ro and Arthur" Jones protested, slipping out from behind Baird to get a better look at this angel who sounded like a piece of home. 

Rafael sighed in frustration. "Michael insists that they had a reason for their reticence but none of us can know what it might be until we speak to them - and they have made it clear they have no intention of speaking to us ever."

Baird motioned for her team mates to bring chairs so that they could gather beside the table. "You have us at something of a disadvantage" she began cautiously "We don't know anything about what happened after they stepped through the Library's back door looking for the Loom of Fate."

"The Loom of Fate - yes, that would be where it all started. That part of the story I had from the sod they found there - Metatron. His take on what happened was full of self-pity and loathing for the Triad but we were able to pick out the kernels of truth and understand exactly what had been done before they returned to Vega."

"Could you tell us about it?" Flynn asked, somberly. "We all would really like to understand what happened when they left us."

Rafael bowed his head, then sank to the ground, bracing his back against the leg of the table with a sigh. "Yes - perhaps if I tell you their story I will understand it better. It, like all their missions, started out simply enough. But in the end - things were changed in our lives in ways none of us could have imagined."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of my other story - where I explain where Arthur and family have been to the Librarians (and eventually Lucifer).


	2. The Loom of Fate - and other interesting things.

Once upon a time

“The story of the Loom I have third hand from Metatron and from the Triad themselves but the story of their return to Vega I was witness to myself." The Librarians gathered around their new acquaintance, quietly taking their seats as the burly angel leaned back with a sigh, his wings folded back to whatever invisible place they went to. He sat with one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him. "Where to begin?" he mused, staring up at the ceiling. "It’s a hard story for me to tell. Their original personas were so ingrained in our psyche, we knew them so well as Damien, Miriam and Andre that…”

"Start at the beginning" Flynn said quietly. "That's where all good stories blossom - from a start that holds the reader's attention."

Rafael smiled. "But this story is not a work of fiction, Master Librarian. This is a life story, a tale of lives that mattered a great deal to me. Truth be told - they still matter though my brothers..." he stopped with a sigh.

"Your brothers no longer care for their Chosen?" Cassandra asked hesitantly. "I can't imagine Michael not caring for Rowan. He seemed so..."

"Obsessed?" Rafael finished her statement with a wave of his hand. "Yes - he was that. So obsessed he allowed her to slip through his fingers not once, not twice but now three times!" The archangel's voice grew gravely as he fought to contain his temper. "The girl didn't deserve what was done to her - not by her brothers or mine. Not even by our Heavenly Father."

"But Rowan isn't unhappy" Cassandra protested. "She and Arthur are very close and from what little we saw of them with Khan it seems he was going to fit right in with them."

“She and her elder brother make this story all the more bizarre. My last memory of them before their re-appearance in Vega was Miri throwing her signet ring at her brother’s face, stepping down from her throne and leaving him to rule the Fae alone – a task we all knew, despite Uriel’s protests to the contrary, that he would fail at. The Fae loved their Queen and tolerated their King for her sake. If he took the throne without her, even with my twin at his back, they would turn against him in a heartbeat. Especially the Dark Fae of the Unseelie court, the not-so-human representatives of the fae folk. Or more accurately, they would turn on him because he had my twin at his back. The Fae had no love for the angels after what was done to them by the demons of the pit during the First War in Heaven. And that young pup was arrogant enough to believe he could still rule no matter what his sister and younger brother did. Without their support at least half of the kingdom would disappear into the Between to get away from his dictates and not even my brother Uriel would be able to pull them back.”

“Wow – that SO doesn’t sound like Arthur and Rowan” Stone commented, pushing his chair away and taking up space on the floor beside the angel. “Those two are practically joined at the hip. Sometimes it’s more like she’s his girlfriend rather than his sister. And I got the impression that their realm was pretty peaceful and happy with them on their respective thrones.”

Rafael frowned. “So I wasn’t imagining that? They did seem overtly affectionate with one another. But then Miri always was with the young dragon… what is his new name again? Khan? Sometimes it was almost uncomfortable how close Miri and Andre were - which made Michael's jealousy even more difficult to cope with. Michael's and Damien's. I always suspected part of the issue that finally flared up between them was his dislike of their brother's attentions towards "their" sister.”

“Again - so not like the guys we knew. They were all getting pretty cozy with one another before they left” Jones commented. “Arthur and Khan seemed to be getting along fine and both of them seemed good with Ro.”

Rafael eyed the young thief quizzically. "This change of names is going to get quite confusing after a while. I still think of the girl as Miriam." He continued to stare up at the ceiling, as though in silent communication with the spirit of the Library, then ran one hand through his messy hair. "Very well - let's start with the event of the Loom. We would have to circle back to what happened there eventually."

"So - how did they get to the Loom in the first place?" Flynn asked, trying not to sound too curious. 

"I have no idea" Rafael admitted. "That form of magic would be more my twin Uriel's purview then mine. All I know for sure is that they stepped through your back door and into the pocket universe where this symbol of the past, present and future of mankind resides. And when they arrived - HE was there to greet them. The instigator of this nightmare. Metatron."

The Loom of Fate

The Triad stepped from the man-made environment of the Library into a pleasant outdoor setting similar to their own Realm. A cool breeze set the leaves gently waving in the various trees lining a stream which flowed peacefully besides a small outcropping. Upon that small spit of land an antique loom stood slowly and quietly weaving a multicolored tapestry. 

"River of Time" Arthur muttered, stepping carefully onto the bridge leading to the loom. "Lovely - wonder what would happen if we fell in?"

"Not much" Khan hazarded, carefully picking his way with the end of his staff along behind his new brother, the sword he had been loaned still swinging from his belt. "We are Fae - means we kind of exist outside of time and space."

"Someone’s been watching too much Dr. Who" Rowan muttered, taking up the rear. She stopped and pushed both men to one side to look at the loom itself. "Well - that's... interesting."

All three squinted at the tapestry, trying to make something out of the avant-garde design. "Okay - modern art, not my thing" Khan muttered. "Anyone see where our history stopped and started again. Because all I'm seeing is a design that looks like a colorful barcode."

Arthur squinted at the Loom for a moment and shrugged. “Same here. Not seeing anything specific to our situation.”

Rowan sighed. “Which is why I NEVER take you to an art museum. You wouldn’t appreciate it.” She looked closely at the fabric then flicked a finger at a section. “Here – this part’s been mended recently. Or at least more recently than the rest of these knots. I’m betting that’s where everything got torn apart and put back together again.”

“Right in one” a snarky voice called out from behind them. Turning they found themselves looking at yet another of the angelic choir – this one very different from the archangel they had just left behind.

Metatron’s human form did him no favors. Where Michael was handsome with the look of a soldier about him, this angel was tall and skinny with a sallow complexion that spoke of long hours indoors, away from sunlight. His beady eyes, reminiscent of a bird’s, darted between the three Fae warriors with an interest. “So – your hedge mage finally revealed what he had done to you. I should have known that fool of a magic user couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

Arthur looked the angel up and down, a cold look in his eyes. “”I’m assuming you're Metatron then?”

“Of COURSE I’m Metatron” the angel crowed. “And I’m the one who used your own mage to change your fates, to take you out of the protection of the archangel brotherhood. Now, you’re nothing more than weapons, just as I always said you were. Not family, not special beings, just weapons to be used at Heaven’s discretion.”

Khan raised one eyebrow at the angel’s tone. “Uh-huh. Right. Dude, you don’t know us well, do you. We ain't anyone's weapons - unless we want to be. And come on, you can’t really think that Merlin and you actually had anything to do with this re-write of history? You and he together couldn't change the fate of a slug much less three high Fae. I mean - come ON! No one is that stupid. You've got to know your old man was behind all of this - right? ” Khan looked back at his sister with a shrug. "He really does believe he's all that and more, doesn't he?"

Rowan take a stance in front of the Loom, a carefully neutral look on her face. “Of course he does. Remember what Michael and Lucifer said about him?”

“Lucifer! You’ve spoken to that Fallen about me!” the angel screeched, extending his wings protectively, flight feathers trembling in anger and fear. Unlike Michael, whose wings were ebony black or Lucifer’s white feathers, this angel’s wings were more a mousy brown, dull and unimpressive to the extreme. Even the defensive feathers that should have been razor sharp seemed dulled in the bright light of the Loom’s pocket universe.

Arthur eyed the appendages with a grin. “You know – you were better off not showing those. They aren’t exactly the most impressive items in your arsenal.’

Khan laughed. “I’ve seen better looking wings on newborn Turkey Vultures.” 

“You three always did have a problem knowing your place” Metatron sneered. “Gabriel’s little dragon – raised to think of himself a child of the angelic host. The Firebird, Uriel’s “companion” who dared to think of himself above all because an angel loved him. And the Dark Lady, the best of the lot of you except for her proclivity for using sex to drag down her betters. It seems those attitudes have not changed in you at all.”

“You have no right to judge us, creature.” Arthur replied coldly. “Not before our fates were changed and not now. As for knowing our place” he straightened perceptibly, taking a fighting stance. “Our place is as leaders of the Fae realm and the Dragon temple. Our place is to be protectors of God’s creations. And with the latter in mind – I think I see a threat to those creations right in front of me. What do you think, little brother?”

Khan’s smile grew broader and colder as he shifted his Bo staff in preparation. “I’m with you on this, bro. We really should take out the trash before it stinks everything up.”

“Sister – stand guard over the Loom.” Arthur stepped back, his brother mirroring his every move. “Once this is done we move on to our next target – Vega.”

“You think you can help Michael’s Chosen in Vega” Metatron laughed cruelly. “He is facing the First Prince of Hell, a Fallen who will put all the archangels in their places and finally show our Heavenly Father the true worth – or lack therein – of his sons.” The angel began to sweep his wings forward, trying awkwardly to slice at the men in front of him. To the Young King and his brother Abbott it looked more like bad imitation of a avian mating dance. Both men bit back the laughs that were building up behind their calculating smiles.

Khan sidestepped quickly, bringing his staff around to strike at the angel’s back. Metatron howled in pain and anger as the oak staff found its mark, landing a solid hit mid wingspan. Arthur reached behind him and freed Excalibur from its sheath, twirling it experimentally in his hand. “Ready to hunt, old friend?” he murmured. The sword vibrated in his hand, glowing faintly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You dare to attack an Angel of the Lord!” Metatron screamed, turning to concentrate his rage on the young fighter in front of him. 

“Attack? No. Beat the crap out of – yeah I can see me doing that” Khan drawled, easily avoiding a wing swipe then tumbling out of reach of the enraged creature all together. A sweep of his staff and one of the creature’s wings hung limply, bones broken by the force of the impact. “What about you, bro?”

Arthur held out the sword and pushed it mentally away. “I say – take his wings.” Excalibur leapt from the King’s hand and flew rapidly to the angel, slashing at his back as it did so. Metatron’s screams grew wilder and more fear laden as the blade, like the human fighter before it, easily avoided his attempts to defend himself and cleanly cut away his unbroken left wing.

“Get this over with Arthur” Rowan called out primly. “And make sure he doesn’t bleed all over the Loom. Blood is such a bitch to get out of fabric.”

Khan glanced over at his sister with a grin. “Man – you are really cold blooded aren’t you?”

“Of course” she replied breezily. “And we are on a schedule so the sooner we get out of here and get to the main attraction the better.”

“Agreed” Arthur called out as Excalibur flew back to its master. As Metatron, in shock from losing one wing, wheeled around, the Fae King punched him quickly in the face with the pommel of the sword, sending him to the ground. He pounced on the prone figure the way the King’s wolves pounced on their toys, a little too enthusiastically for comfort. Flipping the angel over, he planted a knee in Metatron’s back. “Lend me a hand here little brother. Hold him down while I take out the other wing.”

Khan knelt beside him, his grin never fading. “Anything you say, bro.”


	3. From the Loom  - what next?

Back in the Library

“So they hacked off an angel’s wings?” Stone asked, skeptically. “I didn’t think you could do that.”

Rafael shrugged. “It’s easier than you might think. Saw enough of that happen during Lucifer’s fight with Heaven. And the Firebird did have a magically empowered sword – so there’s that to consider.”

“Wounds dealt by Excalibur don’t ever heal” Flynn mused. “Work the same with angels?”

Rafael squinted into the distance, trying to remember. “Yes and no. His wings were gone – nothing short of a decree from the Throne was bringing them back. But as I recall, he wasn’t bleeding all THAT badly when he got dumped into our care. Enough to be painful and annoying but not life threatening.” He rubbed his face thoughtfully. “More than that sod deserved.”

“You don’t sound too terribly broken up about the situation” Baird hazarded, leaning forward. “Something about that guy you didn’t like?”

“Pretty much everything” Rafael admitted ruefully. “During Lucifer’s uprising, every member of the angelic choir took up swords to defend Heaven and all the creatures Father had created. All but Metatron, who I saw cowering at the foot of the throne trying to “offer advice” to our Heavenly Father. More likely just trying to avoid having to get himself killed. And then when Gabriel and Michael become so involved in Vega, Metatron decided it was his time to take my brother’s place as Father’s messanger, his Voice to all his creations. His arrogance didn’t sit well with ANYONE in Heaven – which made Father’s silence all the more distressing. Turns out – He had a plan all along. Just not one he was sharing with us.”

“Seems to be a pattern with God” Stone muttered.

Rafael grimaced. “So it would seem. And sadly, until this all started to happen with our young ones, most of us never really thought about that plan. Except Lucifer, of course, who still claims he took up sword against our Holy Father in defense of us. Stupid sod still believes that tearing Heaven apart and then claiming it was all done to protect us from being replaced by you lot was a sound idea. That is, when he’s not complaining about Father’s unfairness.”

“Ro says Lucifer has ADD which is why he can’t keep a thought straight in his head for more than a minute.” Ezekiel grinned, remembering the conversation between Rowan and her brothers.

Rafael laughed, his booming voice echoing through the library. “Oh that’s rich! Attention Deficit Disorder and Luci – a match made in Hell! Trust our little cat to have made that diagnosis.”

“Why does everyone refer to Rowan as a cat?” Cassandra asked. “Even Lucifer kept calling her a hellcat.”

“She likes all manner of felines” Rafael said with a chuckle. “Near as good a reason as any, I guess, to call her a cat.”

“So Arthur took off the angel’s other wing” Jenkins interrupted, trying to turn the storytelling back to the main event. “Then what did he do? Obviously he didn’t kill him since you were able to get HIS side of the story from your brother angel.”

“Not my brother” Rafael growled. “Lost that right when he tried to turn Heaven against Gabriel and Michael. But as to what happened – near as I can tell the Firebird and his brother trussed that waste of flesh angel up and threw him through the ether into the Between where their armies were waiting. Don't know for sure, but I'll bet some of the young King's army stuffed the sod into a sack just so they wouldn't have to listen to him. Couldn't happen to a better creature."

“Jenkins – didn’t you say they met someone in that pocket universe, someone who ultimately did them a favor and returned you to life after that debacle with Nicole?” Baird’s voice was even and cool, ignoring the wince of pain on Flynn’s face at the mention of his former guardian. “Did either Metatron or the Triad mention who that might have been?”

Rafael shook his head. “The kids didn’t – and Metatron I tuned out after the first five minutes of his whining about the unfairness of his life. Sorry.”

“Too bad – I’d like to know who we have to thank.” Baird reached out and patted the Caretaker gently. “We’re all thankful to have Jenkins back.”

Jenkins reddened slightly then shifted in his seat. “So – they trussed up Metatron and then…what? Jumped into the war?”

“Oh no” Rafael said solemnly. “That would have been foolish at best and suicidal at worst. First they had to know what they were facing. So they found a path that took them back into Vega two weeks before the final battle to send the Fallen back to Hell.”

“Two weeks?” Baird looked puzzled as Flynn inched forward in his chair beside her. “Kind of ballsy to take the chance they could fool you Archangels into believing nothing had changed for two weeks. I didn’t get the impression that they knew enough about their original personas from that memory vault to be able to play that game.”

“They didn't” Rafael admitted, tapping one finger on his knee as he replayed certain scenes in his head. “That's part of what finally clued me into to something being wrong. But, in point of fact, they weren’t with us for two weeks. They returned to us only for a 48 hour timespan before they set out to take on the forces advancing on Vega.”

“So – wait. Now I’m confused” Stone admitted. “How did they pull this off? I mean – it sounds like one day Triad was with you and were the kids you remembered and the next day…? Didn’t anyone notice?”

“Not really” the burly angel shrugged, uncomfortably. “See – there was this big blow-up between Damien and Miri with Andre taking his sister’s side. They all scattered to different parts of the city to cool off – or so we thought. Michael would not allow their angelic mentors to go with them as he knew that our brothers would take sides against one another to protect their Chosen – and the city was divided enough as it was. And he wasn’t going to allow brother Seraphial to walk off with Miri, even though Michael had all but abandoned her by this time to protect Alex. So essentially – the kids disappeared from our sights for a little over two weeks. Then, when partisans attacked Alex, Michael and Gabriel during a walk-through of city defenses, the kids just … showed back up.”


	4. Return to Vega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on the Arch's and others will refer to the Trio by the names they had before - but the exposition will call them by their new names. I think that's how you explain it. All too confusing but won't last long.

Streets of Vega

It happened in the blink of an eye. Gun shots rang out from behind the bunker (formerly a large parking garage) Alex, Michael's Chosen in this reality, had decided to use to store the weapons Uriel had scrounged from the remnants of the airbase outside the city. Human fighters, dressed in khakis and rags over their faces, poured out of the rubble surrounding the facility. Alex’s soldiers scattered, running in all directions as the surprise attack from yet another anarchist group gutted their defenses, determined to rip his forces apart. This was the fifth such attack in the span of two weeks, each more progressively violent than the last. And none of the enemy combatants who died in the brawls were left behind to identify, their bodies being dragged off or set ablaze by members of their own group. Alex and his followers were being winnowed down, cut to a small minority by forces they had not even know existed.

The Archangels scattered as well, Gabriel diving for cover behind the remnants of a wall with Seraphiel joining him. Rafael and Uriel were running for what was left of a hotel’s garage, hell bent to prevent the intruders from accessing the armament. It was at that moment, when Alex's forces seemed about to be overrun that the Three appeared, each coming from different directions to herd the enemy back into the center, into a killing circle. Khan, his staff strapped to his back, rolled into the fray and, grabbing up a discarded shotgun, began taking down anything foolish enough to walk in front of him. Arthur, a determined look on his face, barreled into one combatant and, using him as a shield, proceeded to use the enemy's own weapon against the others before discarding the now dead fighter and pulling his own weapon, a Browning, from behind his back to continue. Rowan, a Ruger in her hand, dodged into the alley between two rundown buildings with Michael at her back. She looked around to find him staring at her with suspicion.

 

Michael's grim look at the young queen annoyed Rowan, even though she knew he didn't know exactly who he was staring at. He wasn't wearing the blond, blue-eye soldier facade from the library nor was he showing signs of the injuries he had sustained before he had been thrown back through to Vega. This face was dark-haired, dark eyed, an elegant and younger version of himself and just as beautiful as the other. And right now, just as angry at her. 

“Don’t look at me like that” she hissed, her gun in her hand. “We had nothing to do with this. Your boy’s security is lax at best and non-existent at worse. How else do you think the boys and I got this close?” She glanced around Michael, her eyes fixing on Khan, Arthur and the Seraph guard, sighing in relief to see they were all still upright and fighting.

 

“You’ve betrayed me once before when you sought to keep this realities issues from leaking into your own. Forgive me if I have my doubts about your reasons for returning now.” He looked around the corner to see the enemy forces were now being mowed down by Khan and Seraphiel, both using a combination of automatic weapons they had scooped up during the assault and close-in knife work. Gabriel was fighting to get to his son’s side, keeping himself between his child and the Seraphim guard the Archs had no love for. Rafael and Uriel had managed to land beside Alex, who was trying to marshal his weary troops to repel the attackers, but was having minimal success. The human forces, shell-shocked by yet another attack in such a short time, were reaction like most animals during a disaster. Some were frozen in place while others where scrambling in a panic to get out of the way of fire. Arthur, seeing the defenders folding, began to snarl commands of his own, putting a touch of the Fae ability to control with a word into his voice to ensure the humans would do what he ordered. Michael frowned, knowing he should be there beside Alex and not here. Not with her...

“I’m not apologizing for my actions” Miry whispered, standing on her toes to look over his shoulder again, one hand on the building to steady herself. “Believe me or don’t. Just get out of my way, let me go to my brother.” She frowned as Khan sliced open another soldier using the Bowie knife he’d taken from her pack before they had walked into the surprise attack. The longer this battle continued the harder it would be for them to keep to the timeline they had created, to try to remain in character long enough to layout why they were here in the first place for Alex and the others. To give them something keep them distracted while the Triad did what they had come to do - take out the forces following Azazel.

Michael whirled, pushing her back against the wall as enemy soldiers ran past, ducking and dodging to avoid attack. “Stay behind me” he hissed. “There are too many of them for us to take on.”

“Let me join my brother. He and Seraphiel need me. If I’m gunned down then at least you would be rid of me” she replied, squirming to get past him.

 

In a blink of an eye he had pulled her further into the alley, pinning her with an arm across her throat against the damaged wall, a dagger at her ribs. He looked into her hazel eyes, his lover, his obsession, his drug of choice. He hurt for it to be as it had been that one moment, there at the Paradise Falls diner when she had followed him into hell. Michael ached to take her into his arms, to kiss her, to make love to her as he had always thought he would - when Father had finally seen fit to bless his choice. “Why did you come back?” he hissed, leaning against her to keep her still. “You obviously have no intention of reuniting with your elder sibling, no intention of re-forming the Triad."

"You have no idea what I'm here for and frankly there isn't time to explain." 

"You have all been gone nearly two weeks, weeks without any word, any sign to us that you were well and whole. My brothers have been beside themselves with worry, distracted at a time when I need their full attention on the problem at hand. Why sneak in like a thief in the night?” He held her firmly against the concrete wall, eyes fixed on her face, looking for deception, for emotion, for some clue as to what was happening inside her mind. The Seraphim had held it over his head, after she had disappeared, that HE could tell what she was thinking because she trusted him, unlike her former guardian. It had never occurred to Michael, until that night, that the trust he had believed existed between his lover and he had all been in his own mind.

“Because we weren’t ready for anyone to see us yet, not until we got a better idea of the current situation. Because my brother and I have a plan – a good plan – to take out Azazel, his minions and destroy that Son of Morning cult and the avatar he’s trying to create. No – I have no intention of reuniting with our elder brother. Battle strategy is hard enough when you are united, even more so when you are divided. And we are too deeply divided to make that work right now.” Rowan hoped she had pushed enough sadness into her words to make up for the fact she was lying through her teeth. That scene she had witnessed in the memory vault must be what Michael was referring to, the reason her previous persona and Arthur's had been separated. Finding out about that would make her cover easier to maintain but again - there was no time. She would have to make do with what she had and spin the yarn as she had been taught to do. Her CIA contracts had always said they could never tell when she was telling the absolute truth or some variety of a tall tale... but then lying to some despot in a far away country was easier than lying to the handsome dark-haired angel she was being restrained by. She squirmed slightly, trying to ease the pressure on her neck. "This isn't the time or place for this conversation."

Michael leaned closer, breathing in that fresh, woodland scent she always seem to carry around her, even in the midst of combat. “Why did Father take you from us, from ME, then return you without thought, without reason?”

Rowan blinked, trying furiously to remember anything that would explain that odd statement and coming up with almost nothing. Her alternative persona must have died at some point - that would explain how she had gone from Michel's student to Seraphiel's but the details of that memory were fuzzy to the point of unuseable. “I DON”T KNOW” she whispered fiercely, eyes locked on his. “I only know I must end this front before the war with Azazel goes much further. I can’t let Azazel and his Son of Morning acolytes take over this reality and spread to another other front.”

“Alex is trying to regain control of this reality – we must give him support and time.”

“Time is a luxury we don’t have. Michael, please, you need to let us do what must be done to end this fight.” She laid one hand on his chest, feeling the heat rising from his skin, his heart beating like a jackhammer. “You have no reason to trust me…”

 

“No, I don’t” he agreed, shifting the dagger. “I have seen what you are willing to do in order to make a plan work. Not again, Miry. Not again. My brother still loves you, despite all that has occurred. He tries to understand, if only for his young one’s sake why you could not come to us when you feared an incursion from Vega into your reality. I will not have him stabbed in the back again. If you hurt my brother, if you hurt Alex, I will end you.”

She laid her free hand over his, gently pushing the tip of the blade into her vest, wincing as it scratched her skin. “Then do it. End me. Because I will do whatever is necessary to protect both of my brothers, protect my teacher and ultimately protect my world. And if that means I have to risk your Chosen One, then so be it. Your Father won’t let me rest, he sends me to act as guardian for those who cannot fight for themselves. But with all that is happening, I may still be ended again and again in this endless war. I won’t go back into darkness with the deaths of innocents on my heart just to protect your feelings. I would rather you hate me for all eternity than lose you to the Darkness trying to protect that boy.” She dropped her mental barriers slightly, knowing that for this she must be as open as possible yet not so open as to allow him to see the truth. “I love you Michael but this is all turned too complicated. I love you. I would not, could not be the reason that bond you have both worked so hard to restore was broken again. Not for me. Love saddled with grief and guilt is not love. At least not for me. Better to stay the Dark Lady, Le Belle Dame Sans Merci then be broken by my heart again.” She hated herself for a moment for using his empathy against him but there was no other way - this plan had to move on.

 

Michael moved forward, leaning his forehead against hers. “Miry.”

She kissed him gently, tongue gently teasing, parting his lips to explore. The Sirens had taught her well what could be used to cloud a man's mind - she could only hope it worked against Archangels as well. She couldn't allow him to see there was anything off about her words, anything not as it always was about her reactions. He leaned closer, blade tip still at her side, free hand holding her tightly against the wall. She let her gun drop back into its holster, freeing her other hand to touch his face, to run her fingers through his dark hair. “We shouldn’t do this, not here, not now.” She pulled back slightly, lips still tingling from his caress. “The enemy has retreated, we should…”

 

He silenced her with a deep, passionate kiss. The moment was surreal, surrounded by the ruins of a world he had tried to save, a world he had nearly sacrificed his love for. He briefly thought of that moment when Lucifer has emerged into the sunlight, carrying her body out for them to see and her Seraphim guardian had called him out for all his neglect of her. And the moment when she and Seraphiel had appeared in Vega, an ethereal glow to her face, as though all the rest of what she had endured had been wiped away, as though it had been nothing more than a bad dream. “No” he thought grimly, slamming his blade back into its sheath. It was time to stop lying to himself. Seeing her in the street that morning, even though he had greeted her with suspicion, had in fact, left him overwhelmed with joy at the thought that his Father had spared her – and him. His Father had given him another chance to make right the wrongs he had done to his Fae Queen. Now, she was warm and soft and safe in his arms again. Who knew how long this moment would last, when God would demand another sacrifice from his sons. “Not again” he whispered, framing her face in his hands and slowly covering her eyes and face with gentle kisses. “I cannot lose you to the Dark again. Not again”

Rowan squirmed until she could get both arms free, then wrapped them around her angel’s neck, pressing close to him and mentally apologizing to the woman she had been before for what she was probably going to have to do. “Michael” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I wish this was another time, another place…”

He gently brushed her face with his fingers, wiping away tears that had started to form. “Later. When we are safe in your realm, you and I will find a way for us. But right now” he glanced back out at the silent street. “Tell me your plan.”

The running battle in the street hadn’t lasted long. Azazel’s forces, though in better physical shape than Alex’s, were no match for the combined fighting skills of the Angels and their associated Chosen Ones. Even Alex had acquitted himself well, though in comparison to Gabriel’s young dragon and the Firebird King he still felt like a child playing at war games. Michael and Miry had disappeared into an alley way when the fighting had begun only to explode back into the fray, Rowan's Desert Eagle blowing any remaining enemy combatants apart while Michael gutted anything that came close to her. They had moved together into the fight with the easy grace of long association – only to part when Seraphiel had moved between them, separating them mid-strike. 

“About bloody time, girl” the Seraph had growled, launching a Shuriken at the face an enemy soldier. “What the hell have you been doing in that alley?” He glared at the archangel who stared coldly back, using his twin blades to advantage as he moved around the duo.

"Trying to make amends” she snarled, grabbing a blade from his belt and driving it deep into another soldier’s chest. “We need them to work with us. There is more to what is happening around here than a bunch of thugs trying to take over a ruin of a city."

Seraphiel rolled his eyes. “I remember the last time you ‘needed’ your former guardian. It didn’t end well for either of you.”

Rowan frowned, not sure exactly what he was talking about but sure she didn't want to know. "Looks like the enemy has retreated. We need to find some place to talk." She stepped away from the Seraphim, hoping he would not notice her reticence with him. Rowan had an unpleasant feeling that if anyone was going to notice something was wrong - it would be him.

Seraphiel kicked over the still form of one of Alex’s soldiers, one who had deserted his companions at the start of the battle and had paid the price for it. He knelt down to pull up the dead man’s sleeve, running a finger over a strange tatto with a frown. “We have a complication.” He pointed his blade at a new ink on the man’s forearm. 

Rowan squinted at it and sighed. “Well – not like I didn’t see this coming. This war has worn down humanity to the point where anyone offering a chance of peace would win over men who might not normally take up arms against their brothers. It would seem Azazel’s Prophet has already turned some of Alex’s men using their hatred of Gabriel.” She glanced up to see her new brother sauntering towards them, the angel Gabriel in his wake.

“So – what’s with this guy?” Khan looked down and frowned at the mark on the dead man’s arm. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Sadly, yes” Seraphiel replied, straightening to face the oncoming Archangels. “Heads up the pair of you. We have company.”


	5. Laying out the plan

In the Library

"Wow!" Cassandra exclaimed. "Sounds like Rowan and Michael had quite the reunion."

"Except he thought she was Miry" Baird commented, eyeing the angel seated at her feet with interest. "Must have been awkward for her. Which one of them told you about their conversation?"

Rafael reddened slightly. "I could hear them from where I was fighting. And Seraphiel filled in a few gaps as well - he could hear and see them. Wasn't happy about it either. He didn't approve of Michael being with her at all."

"Because of his history with Ro's previous incarnation?" Ezekiel commented, ignoring Baird's pointed glare.

"Probably" Rafael admitted reluctantly. "The Seraph treated the girl like she was his daughter, so anyone getting too close to her was bound to get a not so good reception. But Michael - well, he had all that history with Miry and not all of it was good. At least - not in Seraphiel's mind."

"Didn't anyone notice things weren't so tense between Ro and her brothers?" Stone asked suddenly. "I mean - they went into a shooting gallery together. From what you said they hadn't even been speaking to one another yet now they were taking on an enemy side by side."

"Not exactly side by side" Rafael commented, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling. "But yes - Seraphiel and I did notice something was off. It wasn't until later, when we had a chance to compare notes, that we realized we both were suspicious. But Michael and Gabriel - neither of them saw anything until the end. Nor did Uriel. I think they were so relieved to have their Chosen back at their sides that they didn't want to see there was something different about the kids. It took the kids taking out their first targets for my brothers to admit to anything being different. But by that time - the Triad were already on the warpath."

In Vega

“You have a plan” Michael reminded her, fingers gripping her arm tightly. “What is it?”

“Not here” Rowan replied, scanning the now empty field of combat. “Back to the weapons cache. We should be safe enough there.”

“Or at least have enough fire power to drive off anyone we don’t want listening” Khan agreed. He glanced over the archangel's shoulder. "Looks like we've got quite the crowd."

Arthur and Uriel moved to take up positions behind Gabriel and Michael. “What's wrong with that one?” Arthur growled, stepping in front of the taller angel.

Rowan sighed. “He's branded. Looks like he's a turncoat - hooked up with the other side of this argument. Best we go inside to discuss this. At least there we stand a chance of not getting shot by sniper.”

“Agreed.” Michael turned his cold eyes on his younger brother’s Chosen. “You two will help Rafael with the wounded. Find Alex and send him to the bunker. I want him to hear what they have to say.”

Arthur sniffed, unimpressed. "Why bother? Last I saw of the kid he was trying to work his way back to some of his runaway troops and get them back. Frankly - he'd be better off letting them go. "

Rowan glanced quickly from one brother to the other. "“We just need to close this line of contention down before it blows another hole in the ether and spreads to our reality again. Go on, the pair of you. Uriel – take your Chosen and help Rafael with the wounded. Your brothers can give you an update on what we have planned later." She cocked her head in the direction of the burly angel ministering to the wounded, hoping her older brother would get the hint.

Arthur bit back a smile. Ro had a plan for feeding misinformation to the angels - information that would keep them out of the Trio's way while they dealt with the problems at hand. And she needed him out of the way to do it. Which meant she was going to be spinning one fantastic yarn - and knew he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face while she did it. Plus - he would need to find Michael's Chosen and cast a spell of glamour over him to keep him from outing their new reality. The angels might remember the Trio as they were - but Arthur suspected the human Alex Lannon would not remember them at all. "Fine – we’ll track down Rafael and Alex” He turned swiftly away with Uriel following closely behind him, loping along to keep up with the young king's long stride. The youngest of the Archangels glanced back sadly for a moment before letting his gaze return to his companion’s rigid back.

"We have more than a few problems to discuss” Seraphiel replied, wrapping his hand around the hilt of a sword hanging from his hip. The Firebird’s manner seemed odd to him. Just weeks before he had been so angry at his sister he had instigated a fight that had resulted in the girl abdicating her throne. The boy's anger on that day had fueled his own, aimed right at the young King. Chosen or no – one day that boy was going to go too far and the old Seraph would be there to teach him a much needed lesson about humility. Now - Damien's demeanor was blank, as though he were deliberately hiding something. Something was definitely going on, something the Seraph needed to know more about before it could come back and bite them.

“How long have you three been back here?” Gabriel asked suddenly, staring at the girl intently. We've been searching the city and beyond for you ever since you left.”

Khan blinked then shrugged, a grin on his face. “We went walk about. Seemed like the most reasonable solution to what was happening at the moment.”

Gabriel glared at his son for a moment then let a smile creep over his face. "Well - at least you're consistent. You always did chose to walk away from a fight if you could." He pulled his son back into his embrace, ruffling his longish hair in relieved amusement. Rowan watched Khan try not to stiffen in surprise then shrug embarrassed out of the angel's embrace. 

"Dad!" Khan groaned, putting on a long-suffering face. 

Rowan grinned, seeing how uncomfortable the young abbot was playing this role. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to play the part long but she couldn't resist giving him a little help. “He loves you brother. You had to know he would worry.”

Khan sighed, wishing he didn't feel so guilty about playing with this angel's heart. "I know. It's just..."

“Let’s go to the bunker and discuss their plan.” Michael smiled slightly, glad to see his brother’s face was not so drawn with worry. “With any luck, we may soon have an answer for this nightmare world.” He turned, leading the group into the cool interior of the former parking garage, which had been set up as part storage area and part meeting room.

It didn’t take long for Alex and Rafael to join the odd grouping, having heard from a strangely quiet Uriel and his companion that Michael wanted them at the bunker. Seeing Gabriel’s son, for some reason, didn’t fill Alex with glee. “So – you’re back? Thought we’d seen the last of you.”

Rowan hid her smile. Arthur's spell was in full swing. The boy had been primed to respond to them as though he knew them - even if the "memories" implanted in his head were creations of the young king's imagination. She wondered what memory Arthur had planted that left the human so adverse to seeing their brother. "Nice to see you too, Alex."

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better” he purred, one hand on his blade “I’d swear you’re not happy to see my boy.”

“Dad” Khan warned, putting his hands on the archangel's shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“Yes – I’m sure it will be” Gabriel continued, ignoring his son’s attempts to calm him. “As soon as this pet of Michael’s thanks you for all of the blood you have spilled protecting his city.”

Khan hung his head behind Gabriel's back, counting to ten before responding. “Don’t go there, Dad. We don’t have time for this.”

“No we don’t” Rowan agreed, unrolling a large, topographical map of the region and laying it out on the folding table in the center of the room. The map was an odd creation, partially sold and partially glimmering with Fae magic. At the outer edges of the map was a section labeled “Mallory”. Closer to the center (which was labeled “Vega”) was a large, moving cluster labeled “Helena”. Just to the east of the Vega label was a group of moving dots labeled “incoming - New Delphi."

"Wait - how long have you all been back here?” Alex asked, surprised, his ensorcelled mind trying to integrate the new information. His scouts had only just this day brought word of the army of Helena moving towards Vega. The New Delphi group was still too far out for any of his scouts to have seen yet.

“We never actually left. Like my brother said before, we all went walk-about to clear our heads. Once we realized several some THINGS were coming this way my brothers and I decided to bury the hatchet - so to speak - and split up to start documenting what we would be facing.”

“What is this?” Michael asked, pointing at the patch of darkness to the east centered between Mallory and Vega. 

“That is where we think Azazel is located right now – in the east between Vega and Mallory where his Prime Acolyte, the Preacher, is creating an avatar of your eldest brother with all the attributes of a Prince of Hell but minus Luci’s charm – and power. This is something he can manipulate to destroy what little is left of humanity, turn them into Dyads or eight-balls and then take this ready-made army into the ether to join with Azrael or other of your disaffected siblings in our reality.”

"Wait - you three went your separate ways to document this?" Gabriel's voice was strained at the thought of his son alone in the desert with a Fallen so nearby. 

“Three humans poking around – would not have been a good scene. Better that we all took off alone to see what we could find. Our elder brother” Khan responded, jerking a thumb out the bunker door “found the edge of that Hellish pit – figured it was Azazel. Sissy went to the outskirts of the town of Mallory – where we think this avatar is being created – and documented the Prophet and an angel with big white wings talking to members of Azazel’s little cult. Me – I got the fun job. Hanging out around the outskirts of an army run by women.” He grinned lecherously at his sister, who shook her head in amusement. 

“The angel you saw was Noma – the traitor who has thrown in with Azazel. Did she see you?” Gabriel looked at Michael with concern, seeing Alex’s frown at Andre’s revelation. 

“Nope – I was checking out the army of Helena - remember? And I hide pretty good when I want to.” Khan laughed, hanging his arms around archangel's neck in a bear hug, taking a chance from what memories he remembered that the angel would not object. Gabriel winced slightly then smiled, taking in his son’s unique scent of incense and desert winds.

Alex frowned, making note of the tactile relationship between Gabriel and his Chosen. He had noticed, during the Triad's enforced stay in Vega, that the two were exceptionally close. The Archangel – who had spent twenty-five years trying to exterminate every human in this reality – had shown another side to his complex personality when his Chosen had appeared, becoming a doting parent rather than a monster. And the young soldier had unabashedly shown his love for his parent, constantly hanging off his father’s back, wrapping his arms around him in a joyful hug. A hug that was always returned with enthusiasm. 

Rowan took note of the frown, wondering what memories from the vault her brother's spell had pulled up to use on the mortal - and how long it would be before she would have to deal with the human fighter. "“Tell them what else you saw with Helena’s army, brother" she said firmly. 

“A couple of what I think are Dyad’s are hiding in plain sight in the army’s higher echelon. That’s one of the problems we’re going to be facing.” Khan straightened; his voice suddenly became deadly serious, almost mimicking his father’s. “It’s possible the forces from Helena are being manipulated by a higher angel in a meat suit, a left-over from Julian’s little plans for conquest. Remember Julian - the Dyad asshole from New Delphi? Yeah - well he's expanded his reach a bit. Also noticed they had a few aircraft with them - mostly helicopters. That could be a tactical advantage for them or for us if we can pry them lose from the Helena contingent."

“Either way” Miry commented dryly “they need to be stopped, re-directed or put down. That will be my brother's part of this little equation. We ALL know the boy could sell ice to Eskimos if he put his mind to it. Now he just needs to move the commanders of Helena’s army off their current trajectory and either roll them up with Alex’s forces as allies – or cut them down and make them go home. And make sure the aircraft are secured before they can be used against us. The Dyads will need to be dealt with as well.”

“Oh – I’ll deal with the bitches” Andre muttered, letting his discomfort with the situation be turned towards their enemies. “They won’t know what hit them.”

Rowan sighed, knowing at some point they were all going to have to put aside their cover stories and let the truth shine forth. It was not a time she was looking forward too - especially after her "discussion" with Michael in the alley. “So, my twin will take care of Helena, Alex will marshal his forces to be prepared for the human forces coming at him. Our elder brother will deal with the forces coming in from New Delphi. And I will deal with Mallory.”

“Alone?” Michael asked tightly, his hands gripping the edge of the table. Alex glanced over, surprised at his reaction. 

“Yes – and no. I may no longer sit the Unseelie throne but there are Fae who are not bound by loyalty to a crown who will come with me and make whatever is in Mallory wish they had stayed neutral.” She glanced briefly at her brother, seeing his face go still at the thought of the shadow creatures she would have to wield in the coming battle. Not all of the Dark Fae were beautiful – or even mostly humanistic. Some were beasts with hungry eyes and a hatred of being pushed aside by even their own kind. These “beasts” had always been drawn to the pretty Fae Queen, as much for her beauty and power as her acceptance of them. They would be formidable weapons against the human and eight-balls guarding Mallory.

“That’s absurd” Gabriel snarled. “You are both strong but Andre can’t take down an army much less multiple Dyads alone and you can’t take on Azazel’s main acolyte by yourself. Both of you need to face the forces of Helena together and take the Seraph with you – he at least seems to have some loyalty to you if not to anyone else.”

Rowan held out a hand to prevent Seraphiel taking the fight back at Gabriel. “No. brother and I need to work this alone, especially if…” she swallowed, reaching for her new sibling's hand, intertwining fingers. “ He and I cannot be in the same place at the same time if things go wrong. He is a dragon spirit whose rage is fire. I channel the natural world. My rage is ice – we would end up neutralizing each other. As for the Prince of Hell – you three will need Uriel and Seraphiel to make a united front in your battle with Azazel. It took all of you and then some to force Lucifer from Heaven – and Azazel now is nearly as strong if not as quick witted." She looked at the angels arrayed before her, hoping they would not see how mad the plan she had laid out truly was. " Móraí, you know this is how it must be. If this world has any chance of surviving, we must cut Azazel's supply lines before you take him on. He is feeding on the pain, anger and need for revenge these humans are radiating. Take them out of the equation, keep them from over-running Vega and we weaken him just enough for you lot to put him back in his cage."

“What did she just call him?” Alex asked, looking over at Michael.

“Móraí” Khan responded, shrugging. “It’s a Gaelic term for grandfather. He’s the oldest of the Seraphim line – about the same age as Gabriel and his brothers. So technically … he sort of could be her grandfather if God had created her as a Seraphim. Which he didn’t, by the way, no matter what he thinks.”

Alex shook his head, not sure where to go with that information. “So you two think you can just walk into an armored camp and get things the way you want? That’s crazy!”

“Crazy is our specialty” Khan purred, squeezing his sister’s hand.

Back in the library

"Sounds like a pretty insane plan to me" Stone admitted. "Why didn't it set off alarm bells with you lot?"

"Because Vega was in such dire straights" Rafael admitted heavily. "And we all knew we were out of rational options. Part of what the girl said was right though. If they could cut Azazel off from his support base - we might just have a chance at taking him down. So, reluctantly, we agreed to the girl's mad plan."

"You said Seraphiel was the first to notice something was off. What was it, exactly?" Flynn leaned back in his chair, laying a hand on Baird's arm.

"Probably the fact that she never actually referred to either of her brothers by their names" Rafael sighed. "It was always "my brother" or "our elder brother". Never Andre and Damien. Her words were stilted, which wasn't like her. She might not choose to use Damien's name out of anger but she loved her twin - there was no reason not to use his name in conversation. Especially when he was standing right there."

Jenkins sighed. "What happened to Arthur and Uriel? Did they ever join the conversation?"

"Not then" Rafael replied. "King Phoenix already knew the basics of the plan she was going to try to sell us so keeping Uriel occupied probably seemed best. Plus, once we knew that some of Alex's men had been turned, the young Firebird must have decided to see if he could spot which others might be a problem." 

"Did he?" Jenkins asked, anxiously.

"Yes - much to their eternal regret."


	6. Tall tales - and how they unravel

In the Library still

Rafael stared off into space as he marshalled his memories of that last night with their companions. The Librarians waited patiently – even Jones who normally would have been fidgeting in his seat. There was something about the somber angel with them, something sad in the way he told the story that made them patient with him, allowing him speak about those events in his own time and in his own way.

“We talked for a while about the kid’s plans – though talk might be a euphemistic term. Gabriel wasn’t anymore happy with it than Seraphiel was. They both saw sending the Twins to opposite ends of the desert to take on armies all on their own as a bad move but couldn’t find a way that made sense to stop them. If the threat of Azazel hadn’t been hanging over our heads I think they both would have insisted on accompanying their respective Chosen.”

“Didn’t Michael object?” Cassandra asked, puzzled.

Rafael shrugged. “Michael had become accustomed to arguing with Miry about just about everything. I suppose he thought that doing that now would only back her into a corner and force her to defend a strategy even she knew had holes in it. Or maybe he just couldn’t come up with the energy to fight with her in front of Alex. I was never sure. Either way, Miry just up and left the discussion midway through one intense argument and didn’t return. Seraphiel disappeared shortly after. When the meeting broke up all of us went our separate ways and Andre went with Gabriel and Michael trailed off in search of Miry. Alex told me of seeing them together right before the Trio disappeared again.”

Back in Vega

Rowan slipped away from the bunker, tired of the disagreements and tension their plan was creating. It had seemed simple enough when she, Arthur and Khan had discussed it. But then things, even during the War of Reunification, had ALWAYS simpler when it was just the three of them. Even then, there had been something about the young abbot that just “fit” with them. Khan would throw out wild ideas (some of which had a probability of success), she would shoot them down and insert her own, revised ideas (including the few good ones of his) and then Arthur would shoot them both down and they would do it his way. “Poor Arthur” she thought to herself, picking her way through the rubble that had once been a fine hotel. “Caught between a rock and a hard place while trying to free our world.”

She stopped in front of the Stratosphere, looking up at what she knew now was Michael’s Eyre, his home away from Heaven and the place she had no memory of every visiting – even though Metatron, between rants and screams, had insisted she had started this ball of dung rolling by confronting him there with his “lovers”. She sighed, remembering the conversation – if you could call it that - with Metatron just before they had booted his scrawny ass into the Between. 

At the Loom

“You know” Metatron’s silky voice had slithered into her mind. “Michael was willing to sacrifice your life at Paradise Falls, when you foolishly risked it charging after that little human girl. He would have let you die rather than risk this “savior” he’s been protecting all these years.”

Miry looked at the angel with a frown. “Sorry - what?” she said, her eyes bright with curiosity. She shifted her weight slightly, as she kept the scrawny angel pinned to the ground while her brother’s cleaned up the mess amputating Metatron's wings had made. She had no clue what the angel was talking about but suspected it had something to do with the stories Lucifer told on Michael’s “betrayal” of her when she had been his student.

“Didn’t you see that little scene in the memory vault? I’m sure it was archived there, waiting to be released. That girl – Charlie – was the only reason he went out there for you. He couldn’t risk the Savior’s mother risking herself and him by facing down a crowd of eight-balls on her own. I’m telling you this because you need to know, Queen of Fae, how little my brother truly thought of you then, how much he was willing to give to keep that human Chosen of his alive so that he and his brother could work out what our Father had planned for that reality. You need to know that my brother’s loyalties were not with you when you were in that reality as his precious student. And they won’t be now. So if you think that by going back and helping him to save this doomed world again will sway him to love you again, you are mistaken.” He had smirked as he lay face down in the dirt, not seeing the cold, calculating look from the trio standing above him. 

“Sorry darling” she purred. “But in case you’ve forgotten – that happened to my “alternate” persona – not me. Sucks to be her though. Pity – and even more a pity for you since I was wondering if you were as much of a douche as Lucifer said you were. Now I know.”

Back in Vega

“Silly fool never realized I believed that killing the messenger was a legitimate strategy in warfare” she murmured, closing her eyes in the blast furnace-like heat. “Especially if they were delivering a message no longer needed or wanted.” The sun was slowly sinking but the heat refused to release its grip on the concrete jungle that had once been Los Vegas. Her light, cotton shirt had been a little too much in the burning sun, hanging now from her hands like a rag, her dark tank top clinging to her slender curves damp with sweat. The countryside she had explored between Vega and Mallory had been more comfortable, with its miles of vegetation giving way to the barren landscapes of the desert floor. It had been more like home…

“I doubt my brother would agree with that” Michael’s voice whispered in her ear, leaning his head against the back of hers. He had seen her slip away, that “look” on her face as the others discussed the finer points of battle strategy. The look that spoke volumes to him about her – or at least it use to speak to him. Now, he wasn’t sure of anything about her. “As he is our Father’s Messenger…” He ran gently fingers up her arms, watching goose flesh form in their wake before he gently gripped her wrists.

“You can be so bloody literal” she replied, leaning back into his embrace, letting herself relax for a moment. Michael’s hands were a paradox – hands that could gently caress her skin yet strong enough to break bones. In the heat of this moment they were at their gentlest. She felt his lips on her neck, cool against her overheated skin. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her throat, holding her tightly against him. 

"We should go" he whispered hoarsely, turning her around to face him. "I would prefer we continue this conversation somewhere more ... intimate."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hmmm, your place or mine?”

“My place is yours” Michael murmured, teasing her with gentle kisses. “It always has been.” He extended his wings behind him, as though ready to take flight.

Rowan examined the ebony wings with a smile, running her fingers gently over them. “Hmmm… nice” she whispered. “I like playing with your feathers.”

“I remember” he replied. “You have no idea how maddening it was to feel your fingers caressing them and not being able to…”

“To what?” she asked with a knowing smile, reaching out and running one hand through the glistening feathers. His response was as passionate as she expected, taking her breath away with his devouring kisses. Her hand slipped up his back, digging nails in the skin between his wings, hearing him catch his breath at her touch, feeling him press closer.

A memory forced itself forward in her mind – a fragment of memory of herself after she had seen herself abandoned by Michael, replaced by the boy Alex. She sighed, knowing this was not going to work – not right now. Not this way. Rowan had never been “the other woman” in any relationship. Ever. It was not in her psyche to take what didn’t belong to her – even if the other party was willing. And that was what this would be – even if the injured part was a former version of herself. It wasn’t fair to the woman she was – and it wasn’t fair to the angel in front of her who didn’t understand who he actually was trying to win back. Rowan gently pushed the archangel back, her hands splayed out on his chest. "If I ask you something Michael, would you tell me the truth? Would you tell me the whole truth with no justifications, no attempts at explanations - just the truth?"

Michael frowned, a chill running down his back. "What do you need to know?" He pulled back to look down into her hazel eyes. 

"I have had time to think about how this all started, how it began in that diner with Charlie and her baby. Something Metatron told me keeps coming to my mind. When I ran out after that young girl at Paradise Falls - would you have left me to die to protect Charlie and her baby?"

Michael went still, the sick feeling he had experienced all those years ago surging back through him. He pulled her towards him, fingers dug into her arms. "How can you ask me that?"

She sighed, her heart aching as much for him as for the woman she had once been. "So I guess that's a yes then? Metatron told me. I guess I always knew he was right but ..." She shook her head ruefully. “He wasn’t ALWAYS right no matter what he said. I suppose I just had to make sure.”

"I went out for you, I fought those animals for you - for both you and Audrey! Is that not enough?" Michael’s voice was tense, seeing this conversation for what he knew it must be – the end of all his hopes for regaining his love.

She shrugged sadly. "It might have been - once. Funny thing is I'm not even angry about it. I just needed to know." She rubbed her arms, the cool desert air flooding around her, pimpling her skin as the blazing sun dipped below the horizon. "It doesn't really matter anymore. This battle my brothers and I are about to start up has me trying to get all my ducks in a row, just in case. Better to walk into Hell knowing the truth than cloaked in lies."

"What more do you need to know?" Michael snarled, refusing to release her arms, holding her in place in front of him. "That I had a task from my Father that I would complete no matter the price? I told you when we were headed towards the diner that the child was our priority. I never lied to you in that regard. Miry, please, I never lied to you.”

 

"No - but half a truth is worse than a lie. Or in your case - those things unspoken that hung in the air around us that you never seemed to say. You never lied to me but you didn't outright say I should consider myself expendable either. But of course, I should have realized it myself, without words from you. This reality, whatever it meant to me, was important to you. And you and Gabriel would do anything to make your point with this fight - no matter who you hurt. I should have seen then how important this place would be - for all of us." She shrugged out of his grip and started back down the street, determined to head towards the fountains in front of the Bellagio, the place she and her brother’s had agreed to rendezvous at.

"Where are you going?" Michael asked stiffly, refusing to allow her to see the pain her words had inflicted. 

"Walk-about as my brother would say" she said, turning to walk backwards a few steps. "I need to get in the right frame of mind to lead my monsters against the ones in Mallory. A little alone time will get me back in that head space."

"And being with me will not?"

"No" she agreed sadly. "It appears you and I fall into old patterns, or in this case we probably would fall into the first bed we saw. Love will not lead my monsters in the way they need to be lead, not control them as they must be controlled. For this battle - I must be the Ice Queen, the Dark Lady. And I can't do that and love anyone – least of all you." She pirouetted and headed back down to the street towards the bunker, leaving the Archangel standing alone in the street. 

Alex hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the Archangel’s conversation with this “other” Chosen but when he saw them standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms he had stopped in the shadows, curious. Their words shocked him – especially finding out that Michael had been willing to sacrifice this woman who he most certainly loved, to make sure he, Alex, had been born. Part of him felt gratitude that the angel had always been looking out for him – and part of him felt cold at the thought of what his mentor was capable of to make sure his plans went as scheduled. He watched as Michael stared up at the darkening sky, squinting at the last rays of light before the night. "How much MORE, FATHER!" the angel growled, his hands clenched at his sides. "How much MORE must I endure? Must I sacrifice my Chosen for your grand scheme - or would ending my Lady be more in line with what you desire? Must I sacrifice my twin, my little brothers, and our young ones? What do you want from me! Tell ME! I can NOT endure this anymore!" Michael looked into the silent sky for a moment, then started back towards the center of the city. "I see now why Lucifer did what he did" he whispered, head down as he made his own preparations for the battle ahead. 

Alex waited until the angel had disappeared then stepped out into the street, looking between both the disappearing figures. He looked up into the sky to see Archangel Rafael moving in the direction of the Bellagio as well. “Guess I’ll talk to him” he muttered, starting off after the woman. “Maybe he can make some sense of all of this.”

Seraphiel watched the tableau with interest then slid back into the shadows, following the girl. “Always “my brothers” – never their names” he mused as he kept her insight. “And none of the residual anger towards the Firebird that she had when she ran off from me. Interesting.” He watched her stop in front of the burnt-out shell of a shop and stare into the window for a moment then turn and look down the street. 

“You might as well come out and talk to me” she called out expectantly. “I know you’re out there.”

The elder Seraphim strolled out cautiously, keeping his distance as he faced off to the woman in front of you. “I didn’t think you’d seen me.”

“I didn’t” Rowan admitted. “But I could feel your aura behind me. You kind of stand out a mile from the others. Not exactly sure why.”

“Would be good to know the answer to that” he admitted, somberly. “But here’s another question for you – who the bloody hell are you and what have you done with my girl?”


	7. Talking about Vega

In the Library

“When did you start to wonder about the Triad?” Baird asked, curiously. “Seems like Michael didn’t have a clue – only Seraphiel caught on that something wasn’t right.”

“Not until after I chased down the young dragon for his father” Rafael admitted. "Gabriel had insisted the boy go back to his rooms with him but the kid bolted the minute they reached the hotel, claiming he needed some alone time. Gabriel would have followed him but I convinced him that his kid was only going to make sure Miry was alright before he settled in himself and that I would bring him back.”

“Rowan” Ezekiel corrected automatically. “Michael never did seem to get Ro’s name right either” he said with a shrug. 

Rafael smiled. “Yes – of course. Rowan. None of us has yet to become comfortable enough with their “new” identities to call them by those names. Especially Michael and Uriel. My twin and our elder brother were the most determined that what had happened wasn’t as permanent as the kids said it was. Both of them insisted on referring to the young ones by their previous names. Gabriel …” he stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Gabriel doesn’t speak of them at all. I think the pain is still too great.”

“Pain of losing them – and pain of not realizing they were lost.” Baird surmised. She sighed and leaned against Flynn for a moment, comforting them both. “But you – you figured it out, didn’t you?” 

“Yes – once I could look into their eyes I knew. Especially once I caught up with the young dragon – Gabriel’s boy. I’d been his minder off and on for years when he was growing up. Gabriel hated to leave the boy alone but there were times when he had no choice so I volunteered. The boy and I got along well and I grew to love him almost as well as his father did.” He laughed softly. “No – that’s not right. No one could have loved that boy as much as Gabriel. Andre was his father’s whole world. I think my brother would have taken on even the Throne of Heaven to protect him. It broke his heart to know his child no longer existed. He grieves that loss even now – even as he stands beside the throne of our Father.”

“That’s heartbreaking” Cassandra whispered. “Poor Gabriel!”

“What about the other two?” Jenkins asked solemnly. “Arthur and his sister.”

“Those two were something of an enigma to me after their “return”. Miry – sorry Rowan - never let me get close enough to see how much of a change there had been. – but Seraphiel told me later he was sure this was NOT his student even though she wore her face and spoke with her voice.”

“So Seraphiel was there – in Vega?” Baird asked, glancing at Flynn with a question in her eyes.

“We’re curious” Flynn began hesitantly, “because of something that happened here, in the Library.”

Rafael nodded. “Yes – I know about that. The avatar of brother Seraphiel which existed in the young queen’s mind, the voice that protected her and her brothers from their overwhelming memories. The girl told my brother Seraph and I about it – though I cannot for the life of me understand how such a thing could have occurred.”

“Maybe God just wanted to make sure she’s be okay if and when she found out what happened?” Cassandra said softly. “I got the impression from Michael she was HIS favorite.”

Rafael sighed. “To an extent – she was a favorite of all of us. Sweet child that she was, it seemed that our Almighty Father was determined to burden her with responsibilities he did not see fit to offload on her brothers.”

“Maybe God knew she could handle it” Baird commented.

“Perhaps” the angel agreed reluctantly. “That being said – I know less about her new life than I do the others. Even Damien…”

“Arthur” Jenkins corrected mildly.

Rafael blinked in surprise then smiled. “Yes, of course. Arthur. Even he was more an open book to my eyes than she was. The only thing I saw that crossed over from the girl’s previous existence to this one was her overwhelming need to protect her brothers. Both of them. And strangely – her affection for brother Seraphiel, an angel she admits she knew nothing about until this event.”

“Yeah – even she was a little surprised by that” Baird mused. “But she was VERY attached to him – even if she couldn’t remember why. We saw that in her dreams.”

“You watched her dreams?” Rafael asked, quizzically. “I did not know that was within the power of our Father’s mortal creations.”

“It isn’t” Ezekiel admitted cheerfully. “Arthur made it happen – turned my laptop into an artifact so we could see what all the bad dreams they were sharing were about. That’s when we learned what probably had happened to them.”

Rafael frowned. “Interesting. Not the sort of magic I remember the Firebird being able to wield. Perhaps…”

“We can talk about that later” Flynn said hurriedly. “I’m curious what something else that you said happened in Vega. You mentioned Arthur had cast a spell on Michael’s Chosen so he would act towards them as though he knew them. How did that work?”

Rafael shrugged. “I asked brother Amenadiel how it was that Alex knew them if their lives had been so altered. He said the young dragon's brother had taken a moment after the attack in the street to step away from his previous Archangel mentor. He and Uriel had separated, trying to catch up with Alex to let him know Michael wanted him back at the bunker. Arthur found him first and took that opportunity to cast a memory spell over the boy, feeding him enough of what the Phoenix kept from that memory vault they opened to make sure he wouldn’t say or do anything that would tip off my brothers that something was amiss. Alex already disliked and distrusted Gabriel – the Firebird used that to build his story – making him stand-offish towards Gabriel’s boy in a way that would seem natural to my brother’s and I. Turns out, the young king’s instincts were good. He created the situation in Alex's mind that he had interacted with Khan’s previous identity and it had not been a warm relationship. So his first reaction to seeing the boy in the bunker smoothed away some of the doubts my brothers might have had.”

“But Seraphiel still had doubts.” Baird shifted in her seat, eyes focused on the angel.

“Yes – brother Seraphiel was focused on the girl and not her brothers. So it wasn’t as easy to smooth out rough patches with him – he was looking for inconsistencies from the moment they arrived on the street. That, I suspect, is why she had to tell him the truth. That – and the attack on her brother Khan.”

“Khan was attacked?” Ezekiel whistled in amazement. “You would have to be some kind of stupid to throw down with the Abbot of the Dragon Temple.”

“Doubt they knew who they were going after” Stone growled, secretly argreeing with the young thief. Khan was well past six foot three inches and built like the side of a barn. Even if someone didn’t know his background the attackers would have had to have been idiots to chance taking a swing at someone like that.

“Oh they knew who he was” Rafael snorted. “They knew he was Gabriel’s little dragon, his son, his heart and soul. That’s why they did it. And that’s why I have no sympathy for their ultimate fate.”

“You said Arthur was looking to see if there were any others problems” Jenkins said quietly. “Am I to assume…”

“Oh yes – he found a problem. And dealt with it.”


	8. Dealing with Dad

In Vega

Khan loped along the dark streets, mentally cursing for allowing himself to be roped into going back to the hotel with the Archangel who had been his alternate personas father. “Bad move, such a bad move” he muttered, kicking a can out of his way. He had originally planned on taking off after his new sister, hoping that the two of them together could hold the line until the items they had planted before dropping into the firefight were ready to begin. But Archangel Gabriel had insisted on his returning to the Bellagio with him, making some mention of Khan’s needing a shower and a meal before he rested for the night. The young dragon had reluctantly agreed, unable to come up with a good reason why he would not want to spend time with his own father.

Back at the Bellagio

The walk from the bunker had been short and silent. Gabriel stared at his son, taking in the short hair, the braided beard and the hooded eyes, wondering what the boy’s sister had held over his head to get him to agree to cut his hair. The angel had to admit he had become rather fond of the boy’s long locks – if only because they provided him a way to hold the restless creature to his side when necessary. Once inside, and away from prying eyes, he grabbed his boy into a fierce embrace, wrinkling his nose at the unwashed scent wafting from his muscled form. “Where have you been this last few weeks? What have you been doing?” He held the man out at arm’s length. “More importantly – when was the last time you had a bath?”

Khan laughed, a throaty sound that filled Gabriel’s heart with joy. “It’s been a while” he admitted. “Care if I use yours?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I insist on it.” The Messenger smiled, reluctantly letting go of his child and giving him a slight push in the direction of the bath. “But when you are done, we need to have a talk.”

Khan groaned in faux annoyance. “Am I EVER going to be old enough to not get read the riot act for staying out past curfew?” He ducked as the archangel aimed a gentle slap at the back of his head, running into the bathroom to soak in a deep tub of steaming water while his father scrounged something for him to eat. 

Inside the bathroom, the young dragon sank to his knees, wishing he had gone with his first instinct and made a run for the door. “How the HELL am I going to keep up this charade?” he muttered to himself, peeling out of his admittedly smelly clothes and starting the shower. “Dang it – KNEW we should have watched more of what was in that memory archive.” He stepped into the steaming water, letting its heat relax his sore muscles as he contemplated his next move. 

An hour later the young soldier sauntered back into the archangel’s bedroom, rubbing a towel over his now loose and tangled hair. He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing a pair of jogging pants that had obviously seen better days. Gabriel was seated on the bed, absently flipping through one of the numerous reports Michael insisted they need to receive from Alex’s men, listing out what to the angel were items of trivia – like how much food production was still possible and how many refugees had arrived in Vega. Somehow the number of one never seemed to be enough to cover the other.  
Khan stood in the doorway for a moment, searching through the gym bag he found in the bathroom (which had evidently belonged to Gabriel’s brother Rafael) and found clothing more appropriate for the late night run he was about to make. “Hey, did you actually find me a midnight snack?” He looked across the bed at the plate of bread and cheese beside the angel, reaching to snag a piece as he settled onto the floor beside the bed. 

“Best I could do” Gabriel said, leaning back into a pile of pillows. “Food is a scarce commodity here in Vega – and most of Michael’s soldiers are not overly enthused about sharing it with me.”

Khan tossed a piece of cheese up onto the bed, watching as his father nimbly caught it and popped into his mouth. “Sounds like a really welcoming crowd.”

Gabriel sighed. “Can you blame them? For most of them, I was the enemy. Just because Michael claims me as brother now doesn’t erase their memories of my past deeds.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his child. “Where have you been all this time? Uriel has been all but screaming for his companion to return. I know you were looking for your sister but…” He hesitated, not wanting to guilt trip the young man, preferring to show annoyance rather than the fear that had kept him awake most nights. His child was an adult but…”Damn it, Andre, I was worried about you.”

Khan tried not to wince at the pain in the angel’s voice. This was going to be as bad as he had feared it would be. Whatever Lucifer had said about Uriel and Michael, the worst the devil could say about Gabriel was that he loved his child too much, had been too over protective of him. Now that child was gone, replaced by a man who had known multiple father figures in his years of life but none as obviously adoring as his previous incarnation’s father. He tossed the plate aside and climbed up into the archangel’s bed, sitting beside him with arms crossed, unconsciously mimicking Gabriel’s pose. “Sorry dad – but what could I do? I couldn’t leave her out there thinking I didn’t love her, not after…” He swallowed the sudden lump that had risen in his throat, the lies he was about to tell chocking him.

Gabriel relented, seeing his child was in pain but not ready to share the cause of it with his parent. “No more of this. You need to rest and so do I. Come on then, stretch out and I’ll share my bed with you.” He pulled out a few of the overly abundant nest of pillows, making room for his son to stretch out.

“Don’t want to sleep” Khan groused, not lifting his head. Gabriel laughed softly at the over-tired tone to his child’s voice, a tone he recognized from when this strapping young warrior had been a child who had not taken his nap. 

“Yes, you do” the angel said softly, stroking his son’s hair gently. “Close your eyes, little dragon, and I’ll sit right here with you until you sleep.”

Khan sighed, too tired to take this game much further and happy to have an excuse not to continue to talk. He wiggled down the mound of pillows, stretching his lean body out with a pillow against his stomach.

 

Gabriel smiled fondly slowly continued to stroke the young man’s tangled hair, and softly started to sing in his deep bass voice, the old lullaby that had always lulled his child into dreams. 

 

Back in the Library

“Gabriel always loved the boy to distraction.” Rafael’s Aussie accented voice rumbled as he stared off into the distance. “I swear, that boy could have turned into the Antichrist and his father would have found a way to defend him.”

Stone sighed, wishing his experiences with his father had been half as loving as it seemed Khan’s alternate persona’s had been. “So Gabriel essentially tucked him into bed. Then what? Did someone try to attack them in the hotel room?”

Rafael sighed. “No. I was on my way to the medical building to check on casualties from the attack and thought I would instead check on my brother. That was when the young dragon decided to take flight.”


	9. Being with Gabriel

In Vega

Rafael stalked the corridors of the once opulent hotel, a grim look on his face. The attack on them in the streets of Vega been the last of a long list of things that had robbed the Healer of sleep. He was always tired these days, since their return to this accursed reality. As much as he loved his brothers, this place had made him start to wonder if Lucifer hadn’t been right all along, that Father didn’t give a damn about anything but his long range plans, not even his sons. “Wish now I hadn’t left home – better yet, wish I’d gone to L.A. with Lucifer.” He stopped in front of Gabriel’s door, listening for a moment. His brother’s deep voice rumbled softly out of the room, singing a sweet lullaby, one Rafael had not heard in a long while. He glanced in quickly and smiled, the first smile he’d experienced since their arrival. 

Inside, Gabriel was sprawled on his massive bed, a pile of pillows around him. Beside him lay his little dragon, his beloved son, fast asleep with arms wrapped around a large pillow. The Messenger was staring down at his son as he sang, watching the young man as he snored softly. Rafael watched silently as his brother sang his child to sleep, as he had done for all the years the boy had lived, looking down at his son’s dark curls with love. Rafael smiled as his brother looked up at his entrance and motioned for him to be quiet.

“I haven’t heard you sing in ages” the Healer whispered with a smile, leaning on the door jamb. “Things alright?”

Gabriel smiled ruefully. “Someone needed a bath and a midnight snack” he laughed quietly, running his fingers through Andre’s damp and tousled hair. “He was out like a light after he ate.” He slid carefully off the end of the bed, beckoning his brother to join him.

Outside, Gabriel leaned on the balcony railing, watching the fires of Alex’s rag-tag army twinkle in the fading light. Michael had disappeared after the meeting with the twins, telling Alex he needed time to work on plans for taking down the Fallen. Gabriel wondered, masochistically, if his brother was actually trying to reinvigorate his relationship with Miry, who had also disappeared after the meeting. She hadn’t seemed interested in either of the brothers but Michael was nothing if not determined. Gabriel sighed, taking a swig from his flask as he contemplated what they had all agreed to do come morning.

“So – what have you been doing since our meeting?” Gabriel asked, taking a sip from his flask.

“Checking wounded, making sure we had healers ready in case this attack the kids think is coming actually does appear" Rafi whispered, reaching to take the flask from his brother’s hand. “The boy seems comfortable.”

“How many times has he ended up in my bed, pretending to sleep?” Gabriel cut a quick glance back into the suite, hoping Andre hadn’t heard the Healer’s arrival. “Remember when he was a teenager and determined to sneak down to whatever village we lived near to see how the "other half" lived? Always trying to make me think he’s gone to bed when he’s really planning something else.”

“How do you know he’s pretending now?”

Gabriel gave his brother a slight grin. “Not snoring loudly for one. That boy sounds like a cement mixer when he’s really sleeping. And all the sheets and pillows are still on the bed and not on the floor. You know he’s been a restless sleeper since he was a child – when he’s not sprawled out, snoring on a stripped bed I know he’s not really sleeping.”

“He’ll be fine tomorrow once he’s had time to decompress” Rafael laid one large hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Having to come back with the news of what they found couldn’t have been easy for either he or Miry. And having to deal with their brother… Luckily the boy’s a good soldier, a born survivor just like his father.”

Gabriel shrugged him off. “My head knows that, but my heart…”

“Your heart has issues with me being out of your sight for more than five minutes.” Khan’s voice wafted out of the dimly lit suite. The young soldier, wearing his leathers, linen shirt and high boots, padded out to join the Archangels on the balcony. “Can I have a drink?”

“No” Gabriel snatched his flask back from his brother. “You’re going to war in the morning. You need rest – not alcohol.” He looked the boy up and down for a moment with a frown. “Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“Going for a run” Khan rumbled, planting himself between the balcony door and the angels. “Sleep not an option right now. Mind’s still turning too fast. Need to run for a while, work it out of my system.”

Rafael looked between his brother and his nephew with concern. ‘I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

“No” Gabriel replied, suddenly. ‘Stay. Help me to talk this madman into re-thinking this plan.”

“Dad – I’m really not in the mood to argue with you. There is nothing more to say. My sister and I need to get to our positions, take out the two fighting forces and break Azazel’s hold on his human pawns long enough for you and your brothers to take the son of a bitch down.”

‘Then do it as a team” Gabriel growled. “Go in with Miry, take out the Prophet and his minions’ then move on to the Helena army.”

“The whole point of this plan is to hit them at the same time. Shock and awe – a major pain point for Azazel, to distract him long enough…” Khan moved to stand in front of his father, towering over his parent. “Look, re-hashing this is pointless. I’m going to run around the hotel for a while till my mind shuts down. Don’t wait up.” He turned and made for the door only to find his angelic father standing in his way.

Gabriel tossed his flask aside and stood toe to toe with his brawny Chosen. “Nothing in this cluster fuck is as simple as you make it out, boy. Anything can go wrong probably will go wrong. You aren’t ready…”

“Dad” Khan interrupted gently, laying his hands on his father’s shoulders. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be to take this on. You can’t protect me forever. You tried when we burned in L.A. and it nearly killed you. I’m not willing to have you risk that again.” He leaned over and gently kissed his father’s cheek, praying that when the archangel found out the truth he would find it in his heart to forgive the deception. And rapidly losing patience with the Almighty who was willing to rain down this kind of pain on his children for the sake of an objective no one could identify. “You have to trust that my sister and I know what we’re walking into, that we can handle whatever is thrown at us. You taught me well – have some faith.”

“I haven’t had faith since the day I lost my first child to his Glorious Purpose” Gabriel snarled, latching onto his son’s arms. He hung his head, trying to control his beating heart. “Go, take your run around the hotel. But come back to me before the sun rises or I will go out looking for you.” He gently turned his son back towards the bedroom, giving him a soft shove. The two angels watched quietly as the young solder grabbed up his jacket and flung himself out of the door, feet beating a staccato pattern as he ran for the stairwell.

Rafael watched as his elder brother let go of his beloved son. The burly Healer bowed his head, the first time he had done so in nearly a year, and prayed to his Father for mercy for his brothers and the ones they loved. “Do you want me to follow him?”

“Yes” Gabriel sighed. “I would myself but if he saw me he’d assume I don’t trust him out of my sight. Which is pretty much the truth.”

“It’s not him you don’t trust” Rafael assured, starting after his nephew. “It’s the rest of the world.” He turned and gave his brother a half-hearted smile. “Sometimes I don’t think you trust me.”

Gabriel snorted. “You, little brother, are the only one left I can trust.”

Streets of Vega

Khan ran a steady pace around the corner of the hotel, then moved off towards some of the darker alleyways. He had a pretty good idea one if not both of the angels he had just talked to would try to follow him. “Here’s hoping I’m as good at hiding as I think I am” he murmured, setting a long, winding course for the fountains where he was schedule to meet his siblings.


	10. Arthur and Uriel - not

In the Library

“Where was Arthur during all this?” Stone asked suddenly, looking up at Jenkins.

Rafael shrugged. “Trying to lose my brother Uriel” he admitted. “My twin wasn’t willing to be brushed off like Michael or Gabriel. And the young King wasn’t feeling especially tolerant of his need to be close.”

At Paris Hotel

Arthur stared out at the night sky, wondering again why on earth an angel from Heaven would have picked the Paris Hotel to take up residence. Uriel had mentioned, as they made their way back, that Michael had insisted his brother’s all be under one roof but that he had chosen to keep a room across from the Bellagio, where he could retreat from his siblings. “He couldn’t have just picked another floor?” Arthur grumbled, staring at the dry fountains in the distance where he had arranged to meet his sister and new brother. 

“Problem?” Uriel asked, walking behind his Chosen with a flute of Champaign. He had searched the ruins of the city for this particular brand and year knowing his Firebird had a taste for it, hoping his companion would understand how much having him back meant to his angel.

Arthur sniffed at the glass then tipped it back like a shot glass. He frowned. “Too sweet. More Sissy’s taste then mine.” He tossed the glass from the balcony, listening with his enhanced senses to the sound of the glass shattering below.

The Archangel frowned. “What’s wrong? Why are you mad? Is it because of Miry and Andre coming back?”

Arthur blinked, the “different” names for his siblings not registering for a moment. “No – not that. Just feeling on pins and needles – don’t like just sitting here when there is a war brewing just outside the gates. And finding out Michael’s Chosen has saboteurs behind his barricades doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“We’ll sort it out” Uriel reassured, laying a hand on his companion’s shoulder, running rough fingers through the other man’s shaggy hair. The angel towered over the Firebird – six foot seven to Arthur’s six foot three yet the Fae ruler projected a bigger persona, one that would not be easily placated by soft words and alcohol. But there were other ways to ease his spirit and archangel was more than willing to use them.

Arthur pushed his angel away in annoyance. “No – WE won’t sort it out, Uriel. Michael’s boy will sort it out or none of his men will ever willingly follow him into battle again. And why should they? Why should they follow a leader who needs the angels from Heaven to solve his problems for him?” Arthur started an angry pace around the balcony, slowing edging himself further and further away from his companion. “Tomorrow creatures in thrall to your Fallen sibling Azazel and anarchist devoted to the fall of any governing body will fall on Alex and his forces and if we don’t take out the army of Helena, the trash that is rolling in from New Delphi and whatever the Hell Azazel is growing in Mallory, you and your brothers – Michael included – can kiss this puissant little remnant of society goodbye.” He slapped the railing he was near in anger and marched past the taller angel, a determined look on his face.

“Wait – where are you going?” Uriel asked, putting himself in the Firebird’s path.

“Walk-about. That’s what my brother calls it, isn’t it? When you just get on a path and start walking in whatever direction you’re facing until you find yourself or the answer to your problems? I’m going walk-about Uriel until I find a reasonable solution to this nonsense we’re about to jump into and you are not going to follow me.”

“You’re wrong” Uriel replied heatedly. “You’re my Chosen, my companion, my responsibility. I’ve already lost you for far too long – I’m not risking loosing you again.”

“Not your choice to make” Arthur snarled, feeling himself boxed in with the walls closing in on him. This was NOT how he had expected this situation to work itself out. From Lucifer’s words, he had known the archangel was probably besotted with his alternate persona, so in love with the Chosen he had been given he had ceased to see or hear anything else. Arthur had thought that knowing that he could work out a way to get around the big angel without having to deal with those messy emotions that were floating just on the surface. But instead, all the angel’s loving attentions had just made him feel more and more trapped, wishing his sister were there to give him an excuse to get away. He knew he was being cruel to a creature that loved him but after everything else they had experienced and everything they WOULD be experiencing he couldn’t find another way for this to end. “I’m going whether you want me to or not. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not your pet, not some microchipped dog you can put on a leash and walk around when it suits you. I am KING PHOENIX! No one, not even Heaven itself, will keep me caged.” Arthur’s eyes had gone from glacial blue to fiery red, unnervingly reminiscent of Lucifer’s.

The two men faced off to one another, both angry and determined not to be the first to give in. Finally, Uriel sighed and stepped back. “I’m not sure why you’re in this mood but if running around the hotel will make you feel better then go ahead. I’ll wait here for you to be in a better frame of mind.”

Arthur snorted, his eyes fading back to blue. “Right. Really expect me to believe you’re just going to sit up here and wait for me to put myself back in the mood to be your lover again? The minute I leave this building you’ll be flying recon over my head.”

“I won’t!” Uriel protested, squirming at the fact that his companion knew him so well. 

Arthur sighed. “Yes you will. We both know you can’t help it. But really, this once, can you at least TRY to not follow me around like a mother hen? Please?” He smiled “that” smile that promised so much and gave away so little. A smile Uriel had never been able to resist. 

Uriel hung his head, defeated. “Don’t be gone long” he asked quietly. “Tomorrow will be an eventful day. I’d rather not start it without you at my side.”

Arthur reached up and patted his archangel’s face gently. “You need to worry less about me and worry more about yourself. You and your brothers are the ones going up against a Fallen. My siblings and I are just taking out the trash.” He rose up on his toes and gently planted a kiss on the angel’s lips. “Don’t wait up.” With that the young King walked quietly out of the room, leaving his companion behind in silent contemplation.

Outside, Arthur slid into the shadows under what was left of the Eifel tower in the center of the complex. He watched the sky intently, waiting to see if Uriel would decide to follow or not. “Wouldn’t put it past him” he muttered, keeping one eye on the sky and one eye peeled for any “intruders” looking to pick a fight. He could feel his Phoenix spirit animal moving under his skin, singing softly in his ear. “Yes – I know. I was rude. I know what I said was mean. I’m well aware that he thinks I’m someone else, someone he loves and doesn’t understand why I’m not acting the way he expects me to. I’m sorry but can’t be helped.” He listened as the spirit continued to sing, wincing as the spirit hit a note too sharp or too flat for the tune it was trying to mimic. “Look if you’re going to nag at me at least try not to do it off-key. You know that drives me nuts. Once this gets started you can light up the sky all you want and I won’t complain. Will that make you happy?” The song stopped and Arthur could feel the warmth spread from his back as his phoenix settled happily across his shoulders. “Dang – if that’s all it takes to make you happy…” 

In the distance, the sound of gunfire echoed off the remaining buildings between his location and the Bellagio Fountain. The Firebird King raised his head, eyes fire red again and charged off in the direction of the sound – and his siblings.


	11. Coming together

At the Bellagio fountains

Khan skidded to a stop, taking in the sight of the once lovely water works now cracked and dry. He remembered the place from one of his frequent hikes into other realities, stopping to watch the show before opening a door back to his monastery. It had been a wonderful performance, artificially colorful yet still stirring. "Not as pretty as the waterfalls of the Fae realm" he thought, walking around the edge of the fountain. "But not bad." He glanced up, noticing the large form of Rafael circling close by. "Hell. Guess we're going to have an audience after all."

"Well, well - look who's here boys" a voice called out from the rubble near the hotel. A group of maybe eight ragged men, each holding automatic weapons, stumbled out from behind the cover of wrecked cars and upturned concrete. The group formed around one man in particular, a squat, compact man with cruel eyes and a scarred face. "If it isn't Gabriel's whelp. What is it he calls you - his Little Dragon? Now what would you be doing out here all alone without Daddy to protect you."

Khan frowned. Gabriel hadn't addressed him as "little dragon" since he'd arrived in Vega - and none of these men should have a memory of his previous existence. Unless..."Let me guess - you lot are some of Alex's outriders? Mercenaries for hire he's been trying to integrate into what passes for his army?"

The man snorted. "Alex - the Savior of Vega? That boy couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. But he does like to talk to those he thinks he can trust. And when he came back to check on his so-called army, sputtering and complaining about Gabriel's son returning to Vega... well that was something I just couldn't resist knowing more about."

Khan sighed. "Thanks a lot big brother" he muttered under his breath. "Your damn memory spell has just put a target on my back." The young abbot shifted his stance so that if necessary he could see and react towards all the group at once. "So - now you know who I am. Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Names Aubrey" the leader of the group growled. "Came from Mallory. A good town until your daddy decided to rain down eight-balls on the world. Would still be good but his bloody brother destroyed our only source of protection - the fire that kept those freaks away from us. Now we're stuck here, in Vega, praying for crumbs to feed our families. Or what's left of them. So I think it's only fair that Gabriel finally get a taste of what he's forced on all of us. I think it's time he got to grieve for the loss of his family - his child - like many of us have."

 

Khan raised on eyebrow in mock surprise. "Wow - looks like the old man was right about ending you lot. Get a second chance to protect your world and all you can think about is revenge. Maybe we should just let the Fallen raze the city - not like there's anything worth saving here."

The men behind Aubrey muttered in anger at the young fighter's acid tongue. Aubrey smiled cruelly. "Big words for someone about to meet the "old man". Let's see how brave you are with your entrails bleeding out on the ground." He stepped aside and nodded to the group behind him. "Take him down."

Rafael landed just short of the group, just in time to hear the command to fire. He charged forward, determined to protect his brother's child, the faux nephew he had watched grow into a good and decent man. But from the sound of it, he was probably already too late.

Automatic weapons, aimed squarely at Khan were racked and fired with a sound like multiple cars backfiring all at once. Smoke obscured their vision for a moment leaving them blinded to the fate of their target. But when the smoke cleared...

"What the ...?" one of the men gasped.

Blocks away, Rowan and Seraphiel were facing off, the Seraphim glaring at the girl who bore his student's face but was not her. "So" he snarled. "Who are you and what have you done with my girl?"

"As strange as this is going to sound - Miry no longer exists. And yet she does - I AM Miry. Things have changed and not by any action of mine but by the command of the All Father." Rowan rubbed her arms, trying to bring some warmth back to her skin. The desert night had turned chilly and without Michael (or her jacket) she was starting to get cold. She remembered ruefully the old soldier chastizing her about always forgetting her jacket and then complaining about the cold. "Probably best not to bring that up right now" she thought to herself.

Seraphiel frowned. "I don't understand what you are saying girl. How can my student not exist and yet I still remember her? What do you mean that Father...?"

"Long story and one I'd rather tell with my brothers to add in detail I'm likely to forget" she replied, turning to look in the direction of the fountains. "I'm supposed to meet them both at the Bellagio fountains."

"Where you first threw your ring at the Firebird and abdicated your throne?" Seraphiel asked solemnly.

"Yes, well, about that" she replied, holding out her left hand. There, on her ring finger was the Claddagh, the symbol of her place at her brother's side as Queen of the Fae. A ring Seraphiel knew had been in his pocket since she had launched it at her brother's face. He slowly reached in and pull it out, holding it out to her. The rings were almost identical except that the crown on Rowan's ring was in the design of the high Fae coronets that both she and Arthur wore, not the basic design of the traditional Irish rings. "It's a bit different, isn't it?" she commented, examining both rings carefully. "Arthur made this one for me himself when we took the throne. And I made his - it bound us together as rulers of the Fae. And frankly, it meant more to us that we had both put some effort into our tokens instead of just having some elvish jeweler take a whack at reproducing something in a drawing."

"Arthur?" Seraphiel asked, confused. "You mean the Firebird?"

"Yes - I think his previous incarnation was called Damien. I like Arthur better - doesn't remind me so much of the Omen."

Seraphiel cocked one eyebrow at her. "Do I want to know what the Omen is?"

She laughed softly. "No - but if we make it out of this clusterfuck alive I'll get the DVD and play it for you. You might actually find it amusing."

Suddenly, the rapid fire sound of guns echoed down the road, coming from the area of the dry fountains. Rowan's eyes grew wide with surprise. "No! My brothers!" she gasped, sprinting past the older angel towards the sound. Seraphiel snarled and charged after her. Above them, coming from the opposite direction, a streak of light shaped like a large hawk was headed in the same direction. All converging at the fountains.

In the Library

"That's so horrible!" Cassandra said breathlessly. "Those terrible men shooting at Khan just because..."

"Because they had lost all of their loved ones to Gabriel and Michael's war" Rafael replied quietly. "Yes - it wasn't fair to blame the young dragon for his father's acts but these men had lost everything. They wanted something to make the pain go away - and that something was inflecting the same horror on my brother."

"But Khan was here when Arthur appeared" Jenkins protested. "So obviously it didn't happen! The boy didn't die."

"No - but what his brother did to those men was almost more horrible." Rafael stared down at the floor, hands clenching. "I had never seen the Triad use Fae magic in the way they did that night. And I hope I never do again."

"What happened?" Baird asked quietly.

In Vega

Seraphiel and Rafael exchanged amazed glances at the scene in front of them. A group of humans, weapons clattering to the ground, were staring in shock at Gabriel's son who stood with his back to the fountains. Between the young abbot and the men was a hail of bullets, suspended in time and space like angry, metallic bees. buzzing angrily for release. Khan stood with one hand outstretched, a mystic symbol glowing in front of him as he carefully corralled all that had been fired at him into one nice, neat little package. His dark eyes were almost black with the intensity of his concentration. And climbing up his back was the shadowy figure of a dragon, talons extended in the same mystical sign.

Seraphiel glanced back at Rowan. "What the hell is he doing?"

"Keeping himself alive" Rowan snarled. She glanced up as the shimmering figure of a fiery bird joined them. "He won't have to for long. Arthur is here."

Rafael's eyes widened at the sight of the Phoenix figure retreating to allow the human form of Uriel's Chosen to walk up to his brother. The young king absently patted the dragon figure as he moved into position behind his sibling.

"I'll take it now, little brother" Arthur's gravely voice rang in Khan's ear. "Go stand with our sister. On my mark, ready, steady - NOW!" The two men exchanged places quickly with the younger fighter pivoting sideways to allow his elder brother to stand in his place, the sigil holding the bullets in place now under Arthur's command. "Now then, let's have a little fun shall we?" He rolled a finger over the symbol in front of him, changing it slightly. The bullets went from angry bees to maddened, flaming hornets howling for blood. He smiled coldly as he proclaimed "Fiat meum super inimicos meos interierint et visitaverit eos ignis" - Let my fire be visited on my enemies." 

Rafael watched in horror as the bullets turned in midair, streaming fire back towards the men who had launched them. Some of the humans were lucky - their ammunition found a vital organ, killing them on the spot. Others were not so fortunate. The archangel gasped as the projectiles hit their marks, turning the men's bodies into human torches, burning them from the inside out. His ears rang with the screams of pain as they hit the ground, his lungs filled with the odor of burning flesh. Soon, all that was left were ashes and the echoes of their screams. But as horrible as the sight was, what shattered the burly angel most was the look of total indifference on the face of the young man he had loved since he was an infant. Gabriel's son looked down at his sister with a half-smile, shrugging as the last of the attackers was consumed by the flames. "One way of dealing with it" Khan said calmly.

"The only way to deal with it when you're a Phoenix" Arthur called over to the duo, calmly brushing the ashes of the fires off his jacket. 

Aubrey, the leader of the attackers stood to one side and watched his compatriots gruesome death. He fumbled to pull his own weapon out of his belt - only to feel the pressure of fingers squeezing his windpipe shut as the girl across from him held out her closed fist and magically lifted him off his feet. "Going somewhere?" she purred.

Arthur shook his head at the sight. "No, I need your other talents, my queen. Little brother - take her place as I took yours."

Khan nodded, reaching out and replacing Rowan's mental grip on the man's throat with his own. "Got it" he growled, lifting the man slightly off the ground. "Live or die?"

Rowan shrugged. "Probably easier if he's dead. The dead can't lie to me but the living... well that's another story isn't it?"

"Whatever you say, sis" Khan rumbled. "Whatever you say."


	12. stories are told - and battles are begun

In the Library

"Oh No!" Cassandra gasped. "Neither Rowan nor Khan would just murder someone - would they?"

Rafael shrugged. "I couldn’t tell you with any degree of accuracy about the girl. Michael did his best to keep her separate from the rest of Heaven’s warriors and Seraphiel wasn’t much better. The young dragon I knew was volatile, capable of striking out in a fit of rage but he was not cold blooded enough to kill for no reason. This one - I was not sure." He closed his eyes, sadness pouring from him “I KNEW that boy, knew him from the moment Gabriel took him up from the steps on the temple. I watched over him when his father couldn’t, use to ride him around on my back when he was small. Even taught him about medicinal qualities of plants and herbs so he could keep his bloody birds healthy. He was his daddy’s whole world but sometimes he could be my little shadow, always wanting to know more, hear more stories, and learn more about what Heaven might one day want from him. I thought I knew his soul. But this boy – it WAS Andre yet it wasn’t. There was something off about him, something the same yet different.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Maybe God didn’t make a whole new person” Stone replied, hesitantly. “Maybe all He did was rub out a few rough spots and make a few enhancements to what was already there. Same person – just different.”

"Quick question" Flynn asked, shooting a quelling look at Stone. "How is it that Seraphiel had Rowan's alternate persona's ring? If their realities had changed then that ring, and the event that caused her to loose it, would never have happened."

Rafael sighed. "If I knew that perhaps I would understand current circumstances better. By all rights none of us - my brothers or Lucifer - should remember their previous incarnations and yet we do. Perhaps Father made sure the ring existed in the Seraph's hand so that he could see that things had, indeed, changed. All I know was that these young Fae royals were capable of cold-blooded violence as they never had before and were not inclined to care whether I knew it or not. Fortunately brother Seraphiel stepped in to stop them."

In Vega

"Wait" Seraphiel called out, stepping up to his former student. "Let me question him. I have more experience than the lot of you combined in making someone speak the truth."

Rowan turned and eyed the angel, eyes narrowed. "You wouldn’t know what we want to ask."

"I can make a good guess, girl" Seraphiel snorted. "Not my first rodeo as the humans say. You want to know if revenge was his only motivation - or was he aimed at your brother for other reasons. And if there were other reasons to attack one of you – what else or who else might he be hiding."

Arthur smiled thinly. "Yes - that would about cover it. Or at least, cover what we have time to ask about. We're under something of a time constraint here so let's speed this up, shall we? Ask our questions but if I don't hear the answers I want then my brother and sister will step in and take care of the issue." He moved over to his siblings and put one hand on his brother's shoulder. "Put the useless waste of flesh down, little brother." 

Khan glanced over at his sibling and smiled. "Whatever you say, big brother" he growled, opening his fist to allow the human to drop unceremoniously to the ground. Rowan stifled a giggle as the terrified man scrambled to his feet, looking wildly from the angels to these strangers who had just decimated his little gang.

Alex had seen enough. He had meant to wait until he could get Rafael alone to ask abut Michael and the girl who had joined him but fate had a different plan. He stepped out of the shadows, gun drawn, determined to get answers even if it mean taking down his mentor’s latest obsession. "Hold it right there" he commanded, pointing the weapon at Rowan. "Hands in the air."

Seraphiel shrugged, allowing his massive wingspan to flare out and sending the young man flying while knocking the gun from his hands. "Stay out of this, boyo" he said coldly. "It's not any of your concern."

"They are trying to kill one of my people!" Alex protested, jumping back to his feet to find Rafael in his way. "Don't we have enough trouble keeping our people together without you lot taking sides with...?”

"Murderers?" Rowan purred. "Mercenaries? Assassins? In case you didn’t notice, little Alex, that creature tried to kill my brother who had not, till this point, made any threatening move towards him – all because of who he perceived as his father. In my world, killing him would be an act of self-defense and considered an acceptable alternative to being killed." She stared straight into the young soldier's blue eyes, coldly assessing what it would take to put him permanently out of their way. "But we aren’t in my lands are we? So understand me little boy, because I won’t repeat myself. We, none of us, would be here if your mentor had done his job in the first place and let this place die. But he didn't - and now a Fallen Prince of Hell is stalking towards this last refuge of the All Father's creations and if we are to protect your people and our own we will need to deal with this as we did during our own war against the dark forces."

"Which means" Khan continued, arms crossed behind his sister, "that being "nice guys" is off the table. We win - everyone lives. The other side wins - everyone dies. Simple enough for you?"

Alex looked up at Rafael, fists clenched. “Do something! You’re an archangel – you should be able to take charge here.”

Arthur laughed. “What is that phrase you hate so much sissy? Oh yeah – he’s not the boss of me. His old man is – and until God strikes me down for my actions I and my siblings will do whatever it takes to get through this clusterfuck Michael has started with our skins still intact.” He looked down on the young soldier with a grim smile. “Trust me on this, Alex Lannon. If I have to make a choice between saving my family and the lands who look to me for protection and saving you and yours – well, you had better have your plot already picked out because you don’t even rate on my list of priorities.”

Seraphiel hid a smile as he approached the almost catatonic human that had started all of this. He had not always been impressed with Gabriel's child, seeing him as too protected by his angelic father. He’s had even less good to say about Uriel’s Firebird - a self-involved young royal with his angelic mentor firmly under his thumb. But these two, whoever they might actually be, reminded him painfully of his own younger brothers who had fallen during the First War in Heaven. They had understood what needed to be done - even if they were not happy about having to do it. "Now then, little human, let's have a look at you shall we?" He moved suddenly, sweeping Aubrey's legs back out from under him, sending the man crashing backwards to the ground. The older angel pounced quickly, rolling his prey over and yanking down the man's shirt collar, ruffling the hair at the back of his skull until he found what he had expected. "You were right to be suspicious. This one is marked like those ones that attacked us in the streets. He's Azazel's creature."

Arthur's smile grew even colder. "No surprise there. I wonder though - does he know about the weapons cache in the garage at Circus Circus?"

Alex's eyes widened. "What weapons cache? We've searched all the old hotels and found next to nothing left after the V1s nearly destroyed the city."

"Of course you didn't" Rowan sighed. "They were moving them around like the proverbial shell game. Now you see them - now you don't. But we saw." She looked up at her towering brother quizzically. "Time, please?"

Khan pulled out a pocket watch from his jacket and flipped it open, waving a finger over its face “Time to acquisition – about 10 minutes.”

Alex frowned, “Acquisition of what?”

Khan snapped the watch shut and tucked it back in his pocket. "Our first enemy target – which as it happens, is located in this city.”

“What target?” Seraphiel asked, cutting Alex off before he could say another word.

“Just something we found before we dropped in on that little firefight you all were having in the streets.” Arthur looked off over Alex’s head and frowned. “We don’t have much time…”

“You are not going anywhere” Seraphiel growled, “until you tell us what is going on!”

The trio exchanged glances. “Well, if you insist” Arthur drawled. He pulled his sister back in front of him and smoothed back her hair. “Time for you to do your thing, Scheherazade. Tell the nice people our story.”

“Make it the Cliff Notes version” Khan commented, eyes roaming over the various spots where they could be ambushed. “Time is not on our side.”

In the Library

“So they told you what had happened?” Baird mused, tapping one finger on her leg. 

“Yes, she told the story, covering all the relevant points. Her brother was right to call her Scheherazade. Once she began, brother Seraphiel, Alex and I were lost to the spell of her voice and the tale she was telling.”

“And you believed her?” Ezekiel asked, surprised. “Didn’t have any doubts at all?”

“Seraphiel believed her – and having seen what I had of the two boys I believe as well. Though I could not understand why the action had been taken.”

“When did you tell your brothers?” Cassandra asked softly.

“We didn’t” Rafael admitted. “Not until after the deed was done and Azazel was sent back to Hell.”

“I’m going to assume that wasn’t your choice” Jenkins commented sagely.

“No, knight, it was not. But King Phoenix made a good argument. He feared that both Uriel and Gabriel, realizing what had happened, would try to pull their respective Chosen out of the battlefield to protect them. He even feared that Uriel’s obsession with his former persona would lead my brother to sacrifice anything or anyone to try to get his companion back – even if it mean letting the King’s brother and sister die on the battlefield.”

“Would he have?” Jenkins asked sternly.

Rafael shrugged. “If he thought it meant he could obstruct Father’s plans for them, maybe even force a return to their original states by eliminating the sources of stress for his companion – I wouldn’t have put it past him.”

“How did this Alex guy take the news?” Stone asked with a frown. “I know finding out someone had messed with my mind would not make me feel really forgiving.” His eyes narrowed as he thought back to Nicole’s actions, to how she had almost erased the Library from his mind, leaving him and his friends in a drab, gray world without imagination.

“Alex was not pleased to discover his own memories had been tampered with” Rafael admitted. “But as he was faced with Seraphiel’s dismissal of him as “Michael’s pet” on the one side, and the Fae Royal Family ignoring his very existence on the other side the boy wisely decided that silence was the better part of valor.”

“And figured once he got with Michael he could unload all he had been told and get the archangel to deal with it” Stone guessed.

“Probably” Rafael admitted. “Which is why the young King removed his spell – and any memory the boy his encounter with them. All he would later remember was that he had started to the Stratosphere to talk to Michael and had somehow ended up in the street when the first explosions hit.”

“Explosions?” Flynn asked weakly.

“Their first target – but not their last.”


	13. Time to go

In Vega

Khan pulled his pocket watch again and tapped it. “Heads up. First target to be acquired in three, two, one..."

An explosion ripped through streets, topping over anything not still firmly attached. Alex and Rafael dove to the ground, the force of the blast rattling in their bones. "What the Hell was that?" Alex sputtered.

Khan shrugged. "First target - gone. Maybe we used a little too much C4 but hey – at least you won’t be dealing with an armed insurgency behind you when we go. Now brother and sister, time to move on to the others." He motioned to the traitor who had taken that moment of opportunity to push away from his angelic captor and make a run for it. "What about him?"

Rowan waved her hands in the air, making a motion like drawing a bow, fixed her gaze on the retreating figure, and mimed releasing an arrow. In the distance, they could hear the man scream and drop to the ground. "There - that takes care of that issue quite nicely, don't you think?"

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. "You and your shadow bow! Father always said you would be the best archer of the family but I don't think he meant for you to practice with a magic creation given to you by one of the old gods."

Rowan shrugged. "Artemis doesn't mind. She and I have a running bet as to which one of us can pick off the most targets. She wins most times – but I do well enough.”

“Betting you let her win” Khan chuckled. 

“Betting she doesn’t” Arthur replied with a grin. “Those two are beyond competitive.”

“I will never admit to anything” Rowan replied with a smile.

Seraphiel picked himself up off the ground, dusting himself off as he did so. He hid the smile he could feel forming as he listened to their young ones banter. Their irreverent conversation reminded him of his younger brothers left behind in Heaven when Father assigned him to watch over Michael’s neglected Chosen. The thought of his boisterous siblings, all angling to get his attention, made him feel a sense of homesickness that he ruthlessly squashed. Now was not the time for weakness, especially since the Archangel’s relationships with each other and with human kind was fracturing. “I’m going to assume that you’ve just eliminated the ammunitions dump you were talking about?” he asked sternly.

“Of course” Arthur replied with a grin. “Alex is going to have enough trouble when the insurgents start pushing back against his forces. Which I suspect will be happening soon so you and your brothers best get moving and deal with Azazel before this powder keg goes up in hellfire.” He turned, motioning to his siblings to follow him.

“Wait! You can’t just walk off! My brothers must hear what has happened!” Rafael planted himself in front of Arthur, glaring down at the trio. 

“Wrong” Arthur snarled, hands on his hips. “The last thing we need is to have your brothers freak over something the Almighty has decreed – that we be changed from their “students / companions” to something more. And yes – we all know it was at his command that this occurred. The idiot angel Metatron and his foolish allies who think to congratulate themselves on reworking time and space for their own convenience need to wake up and smell the roses. Not in their wildest flights of fantasies could that lot have done what was done to us and do it so smoothly that nothing, short of your brother dropping out of the Ether into our laps, would have given the changes away.” Arthur stopped, took a breath and straightened his back, easing the kinks developed from sleeping wherever he could while they ran reconnaissance on the city. “So here we are – a new version of the Triad you knew. Your Father gave us a second chance to make this right and I intend to take him up on his offer. And I’m not going to let the Archangels mess things up for my family and me. You know what I’m getting at Rafael. Your brother Uriel will try to move Heaven from its position on this matter, try to get God to change us back to the people we were so he can get his friend back – never mind the fact that I don’t WANT to go back to being what I was before. And Gabriel…”

“Don’t you say a word about Gabriel” Rafael snarled. “He loves his child.”

“And that, right there, is reason enough not to tell him what has been done on Heaven’s orders. He loves his child and like any parent he will try to protect him no matter what.” Rowan sighed. “But Khan isn’t a child, is he?”

“I haven’t been anyone’s child for well over a couple hundred years” Khan interjected, his deep voice thrumming with anger. “And I don’t intend to be now. I’m sorry your brother will grieve the loss of his son but that’s not on me. That’s on the Old Man – take it up with him. I won’t go back to being some angel’s spoiled brat hiding behind his daddy’s wings. My monks and the people we protect deserve better than that.”

“You were never what you describe” Rafael protested. “Yes, he loved you. Yes he was over protective of you. But…”

“Brother” Seraphiel’s Irish accented voice flowed in the space between the groups. “It’s their choice how they will live their lives. Father has given them this second chance to be the best of his creations. Let them make what they will of that without the added burden of our brothers overwhelming love for them.”

“And you, brother Seraphiel” Rafael snarled. “Don’t you want to protect your Chosen? Or has the change in the Queen of Fae’s fate made her less appealing to you than when she was broken-hearted and needy?”

Rowan moved quickly to put herself between the two angels. “Stop – he’s trying to provoke you. And we don’t have time for infighting.” She smiled sadly at the older angel. “Whatever else your Father has done, this one thing he kept alive in me - my attachment to you. I may not remember why or how this was formed but you were there in my dreams when things began to overwhelm me and for that support I will always be thankful.”

“As will I” Arthur said softly, stepping back from Rafael. “Without the help of that little piece of your grace that the All Father put in Ro’s head we would have been overwhelmed by memories of our past existence and made useless to help anyone – least of all ourselves. You protected us, old one, and for that I thank you.”

“Same here” Khan rumbled. “For your support then and for your support now. And speaking of now – we need to go. The doors to the Between are opening and our house guards are waiting for us to move on to the next target.” He motioned behind them to the fog rising up from around the ruined structures. “Best we get a move on.”

“Agreed” Seraphiel said firmly, motioning for Rafael to move out of their way. He stopped Rowan as she turned away, examining weapons with interest. He made note of the ornate sword she was carrying on her back, a weapon he had not noticed in her possession when they had discussed strategy in the bunker. Wondering briefly where she had retrieved it from, he gently pulled the curved blade from its sheath and noticed that its design was a duplicate of his own, slightly curved with a wicked sharp edge – and with the name of one of the demon Dukes of Hell on its pommel. “One of Wayland’s blades” he murmured, examining it critically. “I suspected one of our kind had taught him to forge blades like ours but never had the time to look for them. Nice work.” He looked the girl over critically. “Why Eligor?” he asked sternly. “You know which creature this sword was named for – why this one out of all of Wayland’s swords?”

Rowan shrugged. “She works with me. And I know her…”

“It’s a he” Seraphiel interrupted.

“It’s sort of both” Rowan replied, with a grimace. “But I prefer to think of it as a her. And she knows better than to pull any of her little Hell-bound tricks on me. We’ve done quite well by one another for some time and neither of us plan on rocking the boat.”

With a quick yank he pulled his own blade from its sheath and slammed it into hers. “Mine’s better – and not so much of a bad provenance. Make sure you keep it intact and return it to me when you’re done.”

“But…” Khan commented absently. “Isn’t that the Queen’s blade – made for Ro to wield alone?”

“Eligor wasn't made for me but she will work with whomever I command her to protect” Rowan said softly. “And I must admit – getting to wield an angelic sword is an opportunity I would loath to miss.”

“Then take it” Arthur said, smiling at his sister/queen. “Besides which – I don’t think he’s going to let you keep it forever. He's probably going to want it back at some point. This is just his way of making sure you come back to him when we’re done.”

Seraphiel cocked his head and eyed the young King with a smile. “Well, whatever Father did to you lot, he at least made you more perceptive than you were before.” He shook his head with a sigh. “You watch over her boy and make sure she brings my blade back to me with it and herself in one piece.”

“Count on it” Arthur said, turning back to the rising fog. “Let’s go before this gets any more maudlin. I do have a reputation as a warleader to maintain.”

“Since when?” Rowan asked with a giggle. She patted the old angel affectionately on the arm and jogged off after her elder brother, Khan following close behind. In seconds they were gone from sight, swallowed up by the misty entrance into the Between.


	14. The brothers arrive

In the Library

"We never did find much information on Wayland's swords" Cassandra said, glancing quickly from Rafael to Ezekiel. "What was it about Rowan's blade that was so bad?"

"It was named for a Duke of Hell" Rafael replied, trying to remember what Uriel had said about the weapon. "According to my brother, Eligor was described as a great duke, appearing as a goodly knight carrying a lance, pennon and scepter. The demon Duke could discover hidden treasure, cause war, marshal armies, kindle love and lust, and procure the favor of lords and knights. I suspect that the fact that the blade had his name on it - and was able to channel some of his power - concerned brother Seraphiel. Especially since his charge was carrying it like it was any other blade." He shrugged. “From the way she talked about it I suspect she had made herself very clear to any accompanying spirit what she would and would not accept from it – and the spirit believed her.”

"So Rowan went of to their "next target" carrying Seraphiel's blade and he ended up with hers? I'll bet that was a mess." Ezekiel glanced over at Stone with a grin. "And what did she mean the blade was both male and female?"

"Demon's can show different aspects to their prey just as we can" Rafael replied, shifting uneasily in his seat. "They can be either male or female depending on the circumstances."

"So - angels can be either sex, depending on what the situation is?" Flynn asked, breathlessly. 

"Not a subject I wish to go into" Rafael said, shutting down the conversation firmly,

Suddenly time seemed to slow as a light bloomed in front of the Library’s “back door”. Oxygen grew thin and cold as two figures walked out of the light, both folding dark wings back behind them as they moved. One was Stone’s height, with the lean muscled form of a boxer and sandy brown hair slicked back from his stern face. The other, a blue-eyed Viking type, towered over everyone in the room, even Jenkins. The angel’s blond hair was braided and pulled back out of his eyes and he sported a scraggly beard and mustache – which did nothing to disguise his youthful face. Standing at arms distance from the Librarians, neither angel looked particularly happy to be where they were. 

“Rafael” the first one called out, sternly. “What are you doing here?”

Rafael stood up in front of the table, leaning back on it for support. “Gabriel – let me explain.”

“Father made it clear we were not to interfere with the Great Library or its inhabitants” the other angel growled.

“Uriel” Gabriel said, holding up his hand to his brother. “Let me handle this.”

“There is nothing to handle” Rafael replied angrily. “The young ones said they began their journey back to Vega from the Great Library so I…”

Gabriel sighed. “So you thought you would come here, hoping to…what?”

“To find out what happened after they left us.” Rafael shifted back to sit on the edge of the table, so as not to tower over his elder brother. 

Gabriel’s head dropped, hiding his eyes from the humans. “Rafi – while it was a kind thought…”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. I’m only trying to bring some peace back to your hearts. Heaven has its Heart back but it is a broken one, still suffering the sorrow of Loss. You stand before our Father’s throne and pronounce his decrees to his creations with a voice laden with pain. I only thought to find some way to lessen your grief.”

“Arthur and his siblings were here a few months ago” Flynn called out, hoping to nip whatever this quarrel was between the angelic hosts in the bud. “Other than Arthur being a little annoyed with me they seemed fine.”

“A little?” Stone muttered, looking at Cassandra. “Flynn really needs to get better are reading body language.”

Baird glared at Flynn for a moment. "Rafael was telling us what happened after they stepped through our back door into that “other” reality.”

Gabriel looked sharply at his brother. “And why would you do that?”

“Because they deserve to know what happened. They are friends to the Triad, or at least to the Triad as it stands now. This one…” he said, motioning to Jenkins, “is the Grail Knight, a man of honor and virtue who calls the Phoenix King his friend.” Rafael shrugged. “The Librarians of the Great Library have shown themselves to be staunch friends as well. Do they not deserve to know what their assistance to our young ones was used for? Or maybe I just needed to hear the story spoken aloud to remind myself why things are the way they are now. Take your pick – all excuses are equal in my eyes.”

Gabriel stood with arms crossed and head bowed. “Rafi – don’t be defensive. I’m not angry with you – just concerned.” He looked around the room and sighed. Walking up to the table he pulled out three chairs and motioned his towering siblings to sit beside him. “So how far had you gotten in your storytelling?” Uriel, still scowling at the humans in their midst, did as he was told, dropping into a chair with an aggrieved thump.

Rafael also sank into his chair, glad his brother was willing to let the story continue. “Not far – hadn’t even gotten to the best parts. Or at least what we thought at the time were the best parts.”

Baird eyed the two new angels speculatively then pulled her own chair closer to their visitors, with Flynn and the others following her lead. “So, the Triad disappeared into the Between - leaving you, Seraphiel and Alex to see what was left after they bombed that ammo bunker. Sounds like you two angels were not on the same page about telling your brothers what had happened to their Chosen."

"No - we were not. But circumstances moved too quickly for us to quarrel about it. The bombing wasn't the only surprise our young ones had left for us."

In Vega

Alex, Rafael and Seraphiel ran towards the sound of the explosion, dodging assorted civilians and armed personnel who were also streaming from that section of the city. The bunker was now an inferno, with sound of ammunition going off in the intense heat and flames creeping up on nearby structures. “What a mess!” Alex exclaimed bitterly.

“Not as much of a mess as if those weapons had been turned on you once we moved on the Fallen” Seraphiel remarked, frowning at the young soldier. 

“We could have taken the bunker” Alex protested, watching for any movement from the burning facility. “My forces needed those guns!”

“You only would have been able to overrun the bunker if you had known it was there. Which you didn’t.” Seraphiel was growing tired of dealing with Michael’s “pet” human – humans were never high on his list of beings to get to know and savior or no this boy just wasn’t catching on fast enough to keep his world alive. “And considering that some of those sods the Firebird put down were men I have seen you sending out on patrol the chances are all you would have been doing was re-arming the very men who were trying to take you out of the picture. Or hadn’t you noticed you have insurgents embedded within your own forces?”

Rafael grabbed the younger man by the shoulder, mentally ticking off all the ways the Seraphim’s rough handling of Michael’s Chosen could make a bad situation worse. “We have bigger things to worry about than a burning munitions depot. There is a Fallen out there preparing to march on Vega and three Fae warriors who once were our young students taking up arms against that Fallen’s supporters who also, by the way, are marching on Vega.” 

“All but the ones in Mallory” Seraphiel replied calmly. “That bunch is just trying to create an avatar of the reason Heaven went to war with itself in the first place. Remind me do a little more digging before I agree to help you Archs with anything, ever again.”

Rafael dug his fingers into Alex’s shoulders, mentally counting to ten before he spoke to the Seraphim. “We have to tell my brothers what has happened to their Chosen.”

“What part of “not a good idea” did you not understand?” Seraphiel growled, looking at the taller Archangel with disbelief. “The Firebird made several good points – especially when speaking about your twin Uriel. This world is falling down around us and you want to throw MORE drama on the fire by telling your brothers that Father has erased their precious Chosen from the Book of Life and replaced them with three others? Three others who, by the way, are more stable without their angelic guardians then with them. Even my girl, it would seem, is better off working without me at her back then with me. And I’m fine with that if it means I don’t have to revisit watching her die because of your brother’s missteps. Frankly, Rafael, nothing I’ve seen in this reality is worth a drop of my girl’s blood – or that of her brothers!” The older angel looked around suddenly, his enhanced hearing detecting the whining sounds of a communication system trying to come to life. “Does anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” Alex asked, frowning. He looked up at the remains of a shop wall and watched, amazed, as the remains of a speaker vibrated to life, the shrill screech of an amplifier coming to life spilling from it. “What the …? A song poured from the ruins, from every speaker, every discarded phone and tablet, every communication device buried under smoking rumble. Three voices, two males and a lilting female voice, sang words in a language Alex had never heard yet sounded so familiar with the sounds of a stringed instrument keeping time in the background as the voices repeated their song over and over again. The power in the music spread over the ruins, flowing outward like a wave, to merge with the sounds coming from other devices in other buildings until it seemed as though the entire city was blanketed by sound. 

“I’m impressed” Seraphiel said quietly. “Those three have found a way to exterminate the vermin in your city without actually being IN your city.” He pointed to a figure staggering out of a nearby alleyway. “See?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed as one of the possessed, an Eight-ball, stumbled forward into the light of the flames, finally falling face first into the street. The creature lay still for a moment then shuddered, rising to reveal…

In the Library

“Damned if the kids hadn’t figured out how to sing an exorcism and spread the strength of the spell over the city using what was left of the communications grid.” Rafael sighed, rubbing his eyes. “An elegant solution – not one I would have thought those three would come up with before.”

“They had help” Jenkins commented. “When Rowan dragged me through the door and into the Fae realm…”

“When…what?” Uriel said suddenly, eyes narrowed. “Mortals do not survive crossing the threshold of the Black Gates.”

“He’s immortal, little brother” Gabriel replied, laying a quelling hand on his sibling. “I suspect what would kill a human probably won’t hurt him.” He smiled sadly. ‘My boy always did have a beautiful voice.”

“Damien couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket” Uriel snorted. “I can’t imagine that changing.”

“It did” Jenkins insisted. “He perhaps didn’t have as soulful a voice as Master Khan but it was a good, rich baritone which would fill the air with the sound of his power. And Lady Rowan’s voice was a match to her brothers, the glue that held the song together.”

Rafael smiled. “You are fond of them, are you not Sir Knight? Of the Firebird and his sister?”

“I fought at Arthur’s side for many of my formative years when he presented himself as Arthur Pendragon. A good man, a talented sorcerer and a Warlord greater than we had ever seen. I am more than fond of the man, Archangel. I am honored to say he is my friend.”

Uriel’s head dropped, hiding his eyes. “Damien’s father always wanted him to be a warlord. I had hoped for different for him.”

“Arthur” Jenkins corrected automatically. 

The Archangel gritted his teeth. “Yes – Arthur.”

Gabriel’s hand tightened on his brother’s wrist. “Uriel” he warned softly. “We’ve talked about this. They are now who they chose to be and using their old names will not change things.”

Baird cleared her throat, hoping to distract the angels from this obviously painful conversation. “So – they figured out how to exorcise demons from the human population?”

“No” Rafael replied, sadly. “Not demons – lower angels. The lowest choir of the heavenly host sent originally to begin the Apocalypse. They have no physical form and no power to manifest one so they took over human forms to complete the task assigned to them. When Michael intervened and allowed the “savior” to be born these lower angels had nowhere to go. They could not return to Heaven as they had not completed their assignment. Many couldn’t find a way to disengage from their human hosts and many, quite frankly, didn’t want to. Many of the lower angels found the sensations they were experiencing in human form too tempting to give up. So they remained, mad creatures in a mad world. Until our young ones sang and sent them away.”

“Sent them where?” Stone asked, somberly.

“Back into the darkness from which they were formed” Uriel replied shortly. “They ceased to exist.”

“And God was okay with that?” Baird asked, looking at her Librarians with concern.

“Yes” Gabriel replied. “Alex, Michael’s Chosen, was given the ability to perform the same function – an exorcism – but not the strength to do it over a distance like our young one’s song did. Father simply was evening the playing field, so to speak, by allowing them to do what they did.”

“So, when did the rest of you figure out the kids were gone?” Ezekiel moved closer to Baird, watching over her shoulder as their visitors stared at one another. 

Gabriel shrugged. “I’ll take up the tale, if you don’t mind, little brother. There isn’t much more to tell that we actually witnessed.”

Rafael nodded. “You probably would tell it better than I could anyway.”


	15. Preparing for war

In the Library

Gabriel settled into his chair, his eyes roaming across the faces of the Librarians as he mentally prepared himself for the story he was about to tell. “Michael, Uriel and I arrived at the site of the explosion shortly after Rafi, Seraphiel and Alex did. We were all stunned by what we found. It was only the first of the revelations we were to endure.”

In Vega

Gabriel dropped onto the street in front of the burning building, eyes scanning the perimeters. “Rafael!” he called out. “Where is he? Where is my son? You said you would make sure he returned to me!” He moved quicly around the fires, still looking for his son's tall, lanky frame.

"I tried" Rafael protested. "But the situation just got too out of hand."

“He's safe enough - gone with his siblings to start their run at Azazel’s supply lines” Seraphiel replied, aiming a quelling look at the archangel beside him. He waved a hand above his head. “They left us a few surprises before they took off. I’m betting that song will continue until every Eight-Ball and Dyad are gone from the city.”

Gabriel frowned, listening to the song as it continued to flow through the spaces around them. He could pick out Andre’s voice singing lead with Miry’s light alto chiming in behind him. The strings were probably Andre's favorite guitar being strummed as they sang. But the deep baritone that anchored the song mystified him. “Who is that singing?”

“Best guess” Seraphiel replied, adjusting the sheath carrying the young Queen’s sword more comfortably across his back. “It’s your boy, his sister and their elder brother. Turns out they make a pretty good singing group. Pity they couldn’t have found that talent under better circumstances.” He could hear Wayland’s blade whispering to him, asking where the enemy was that its mistress had promised the sword it could devour. The Seraphim tried not to shudder at the thought of his girl carrying this creature across her back during their war to redeem their reality, that voice always whispering in her head, looking for blood. 

Uriel stared at Rafael and Seraphiel in disbelief. “Damien can’t sing – it’s the one thing no amount of practice could help him master.”

“Well it looks like he’s mastered it now” Rafael growled. Everything in him screamed he should tell his brothers what had happened, how their Chosen had been changed by their Heavenly Father. But while his heart yearned for the truth to be spoken, his mind knew the young King was right. His brothers were too fractured to make use of this chance their Father had given the Triad to make things right in this reality. 

Michael frowned at the look in Rafael’s eyes. His towering brother was trying to suppress something that he didn’t want his brothers to worry about. “And this mess?”

Rafael shrugged. “A weapons cache that was buried by anarchists hiding behind our defenses. Kids ran across it when they were on their way back to us and decided to take it out so it couldn’t be used against Alex and his men.”

Alex glared at the two angels beside him. “They could have just told us it was there and let my people…”

“Do what – throw their lives away trying to salvage a few crates of weapons while the enemy encircles them and picks them off one by one?” Seraphiel replied, angrily. “This cache wasn’t worth the sacrifice and the Triad knew it.”

“Then what was it?” Uriel asked, worriedly, his eyes still searching for the lean, muscular form of his beloved companion.

“It was the first in their list of targets, and the starting gun for our run at Azazel” the Seraph intoned. “We need to be on the road to where they saw that sod is waiting for his followers to form on this city. And we need to do it NOW!”

Michael frowned. “If we leave now then the city is left defenseless.”

“Your Chosen will have to learn to stand on his own two feet someday, Michael” the older angel challenged. “I know you were willing to sacrifice my girl to protect this boy but are you willing to sacrifice ALL of the Chosen on the off chance you can keep Alex safe while he fumbles about trying to save what remains of humanity?”

In the Library

“Does not sound like Seraphiel and Michael were on good terms” Baird commented.

“They weren’t” Gabriel admitted. “But the old Seraph was right. We needed to move on Azazel quickly – and that meant leaving Alex to martial his troops as best he could and be prepared if anything got past the kids and marched on Vega.”

“Which I’m assuming didn’t happen” Jenkins said with certainty.

Gabriel smiled. “You really are loyal to King Phoenix, aren’t you Sir Knight? But you are correct. The army of Helena – what was left of it – would appear hours later at the gates of Vega, waving the white flag and asking to speak to Alex about joining their forces against the darkness still lurking in the desert behind them. They never saw anything crawl out of the flames of what was left of the creatures coming from New Delphi and as for Mallory…”

“Mallory – where a clone of Lucifer was being grown for your Fallen brother to use against mankind. What happened there?” Baird shifted in her seat, her military background aching to hear more details about the actually battlefield strategy.

“We saw it go up in a mushroom cloud from the battlefield where we faced down Azazel” Rafael said softly. “I wish I knew how they did it, but our young ones essentially wiped that town off the face of the Earth – along with all the partisans, Eight-Balls, Dyads and Hell born creatures that inhabited it.”

Gabriel sighed. “It was one of the last signs of hope we had that things could be made right for that world. And after that cloud rose up – so did Michael.”

Preparing for the battlefield

It had not taken long for the archangels and their Seraphim brother to get ready to march out to war against the First Prince of Hell. Gabriel and Uriel had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Michael that they needed to find their own Chosen and act as their support but the Archangel was deaf to their arguments. And for once Seraphiel agreed with him, pointing out that dividing their own forces would not help to protect their young ones.. Once their arguments were shut down, the four higher angels retrieved their kite shields from where they had hidden them along with swords and automatic weapons. The shields each bore the sigil and color that represented the Archangel carrying it. Seraphiel's, strangely enough, bore the sigil of the Queen of Fae along with his own, something that did not set well with Michael. "Why does your shield carry her mark?" Michael asked the Seraphim somberly.

Seraphiel shrugged. "It was something she asked me to do when she was first bonded to me - something about an old tradition of knights carrying their ladies token into battle. I did, by the way, point out I was not her knight but her teacher but she asked me to humor her so I did. Pity she isn't here to see it." He shrugged off further conversation, walking away from the silent Archangel. Instead Seraphiel scavenged human weapons from the burning arsenal to tuck into his stash along with his own, “Never know which one will work best” Seraphiel had muttered, tucking a Mauser into his belt along with one of his parrying daggers.

“Do I want to know how many weapons he’s carrying?” Rafael had asked, eyeing their brother angel uncertainly.

“Probably not” Uriel had replied, checking his own weapons. “I’ve heard from his brother Seraphim that he’s never been caught without a weapon no matter the length of the battle or the number of the foe.”

“He probably sets off metal detectors” Alex had muttered, watching his mentor and the other angels. 

Michael frowned, not understanding the reference for a moment. “You and your men are ready to defend the city?” 

“Yes, but…”

“Either yes or no” Michael said sternly. “Are you ready or not?”

“Yes – we’re ready” Alex said, giving up the argument. He had tried for the last hour to convince Michael to wait until his own scouts had returned with news of the other forces lurking outside their walls before he and his brothers had left Vega unprotected to take on the Fallen. The argument had gone nowhere. “How long before we know whether you succeeded or not?”

“When Hellhounds start racing through your streets gutting every other person they run across you can pretty much guess we didn’t win” Seraphiel replied sarcastically.

Michael glanced over at the Seraphim then back at his Chosen. “When last we fought this particular Fallen we had the might of Heaven behind us. Luckily he does not appear to have Hell’s hordes behind him either. We maybe almost evenly matched if the young ones can cut off his supply lines.”

Alex shook his head, an odd, foggy feeling coming over him. “Who?”

Michael stared at him, concerned. “Our young ones. Miry and her brothers Damien and Andre. The Fae Triad who blew up that ammo dump and broadcast the song across your city to drive out the Eight-Balls.”

Alex looked at his angel in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” he said. “I kind of think I should but I really don’t.”

Michael shot a look at Rafael, who had been avoiding him since they had gathered at the site of the explosion. “It doesn’t matter” he said softly. “Don’t concern yourself with it. It’s something between my brothers and I that will need to be worked out when we return.”

Alex shrugged, the fog slowly easing from his mind. “Whatever you say. I’d better check on my forward line. Good hunting!” He trotted off, leaving the angels to make final weapons checks on each other.

In the Library

"That's not good" Baird commented. "Arthur picked a bad time for his spell to wear off."

"I suspect it was EXACTLY the time he wanted it to disappear" Gabriel replied with a sigh. "He was cutting all the remaining ties to that world - and to us."

"I should have said something" Rafael said miserably.

"No, little brother. In the end the Firebird was right. We went out to fight because we believed to do so would protect our Chosen. If we had thought they no longer existed, or at least no longer were bound to us I'm not sure whether we could have gone into the fight as united as we did." Gabriel's tapped on his younger brother's arm absently as he remembered that moment in time. "I only wish..."

"That Father had shown more confidence in us?" Uriel asked quietly.

"He seemed to thrown all his support behind our young ones" Gabriel replied with a sad smile. "And considering how this all ended, he was right. Miry use to say that Faith was believing in the Almighty's plan even when there was no reason to. The Triad, in their second incarnation, appeared to have that Faith. Perhaps that was the lesson he was trying to teach us."

"So you went out after the First Prince of Hell" Flynn prodded gently. "You obviously won since you are here. But did you ever find out how the others did in their battles?"

The angels exchanged glances. "Yes" Gabriel replied slowly, "though not until we had sent the twisted sod back to his cage in Hell. And even then - it took the magic of the Old Warlord, Damien's father, to show us what had occurred. Right before he..." The angel's voice petered out, eyes on the ceiling. 

Again, the room grew cold and almost airless. Another winged figure appeared before the Library back door, pulling its wings back into place as it materialized. This angel, dressed in battle armor, was tall, slender with an elegantly muscled physique. His hair was longer than the others and slightly ragged with brown eyes as cold as the steel of the sword he carried. He looked over at the seated Gabriel with a frown. "Why are you all here?" he asked.

"I would ask you the same question, Michael" Gabriel replied, gripping Uriel's arm to keep him in place.

"Michael?" Baird asked in confusion. "That's not..."

"Remember what I told you about them having different aspects for different places and events?" Flynn said, excitement in his voice. "This must be one of Michael's different faces!"

"As if this wasn't already confusing enough" Ezekiel sighed, sliding out of his chair. "No wonder Ro wasn't having any of it."

Michael's eyes fixed on the young Aussie. "Ro? Is that how you address the Queen of Fae?" he asked coldly.

"It's her name" Ezekiel replied with a shrug. "She doesn't mind."

Gabriel rose from his seat and planted himself in front of his armored sibling. "What does it matter to you, Michael, that we are here?"

Michael dragged his eyes back to his sibling. "There is nothing for you here. You are only asking for more pain."

"Since when did you care about Gabriel's pain?" Uriel muttered. "He sacrificed his son for your cause and all you could do was walk away with your Chosen, ignoring his grief."

Rafael leaned forward in his chair. "Michael , tell these good people the end of the story - tell them about our destruction of Azazel and return to Vega."

Michael stiffened. "Why would I..."

"Because we were part of the start of the story" Jenkins intoned, moving around Baird's chair to stand in front of the angel. "I think we have earned the right to hear the end of it."


	16. Taking on Azazel

In the library

Michael, Archangel and Sword of God, looked from his brothers to the Librarians with a frown. “So the story the old Warlord told us was true? Our nightmare began…here?”

Jenkins nodded somberly. “Yes – when you fell into my chapel after the battle with Azazel.”

Michael’s frown deepened. “That’s not correct. Azazel fell to my blade and we returned to Vega.”

“Yes – this time you did. But you would not have if my friend and his siblings had not found a way to go to this alternate reality and take up the battlefield positions they were meant to hold.” Jenkins, arms crossed, motioned around the room. “My friend and his sister were having a night out on her birthday when you appeared here, battered and beaten with the spirit of the Library telling you that you had sacrificed everything – including your brothers – to save your Chosen One. And it hadn’t been enough. It was that moment we all found out what had happened, how Arthur and his siblings had been “re-engineered” as it were to better serve the Lord’s purpose. So you see, Archangel Michael, my Librarians and I WERE here at the start of your journey. Do you not think we should at least know what happened at the end of it?”

Michael looked at the old soldier in front of him, trying to remember the events he spoke of but finding nothing. “I have no memory of what you speak of but…” He sighed in frustration. “Very well – let us speak of our fight with Azazel – and what happened after. Perhaps then we will be able to begin to understand our Father's plan.”

In the dark spaces of the Vega reality

The Archangels landed quietly on the edge of the darkness, straining to see across the inky blackness stretching across the desert in front of them. A dry wind blew across them, gagging them with the stench of sulfur, rotting flesh and other odors they had tried to forget. For the angels it was like turning back the hands of time, to the moment during the first War in Heaven when Azazel had led his forces, by Lucifer’s command, to defile the holy spheres and to bring their filth the steps of the throne.

“Bloody hell!” Seraphiel cursed. “I’d hoped never to smell that again.”

Rafael agreed silently. The scents were horrendous with devastating memories of loss and grief associated with them. “Wonder what else he dragged up from the pit to join him?

Michael hefted his sword and shield, eyes narrowing as he watched figures skittering across the desert floor, hiding in the shadows. “Enough talk. Let’s begin.”

It was a slow, bloody slog through the darkness, hours of repetitive forays across the open spaces, attacking at will and being attacked in kind. Each angelic brother paired up with their respective twin and sweeped the space in front of them with sword and gun, making sure nothing was left alive before they moved on. Smoke from hellish fires clogged their lungs as they moved, coating their armor with greasy layers of soot, making an already nightmarish situation more horrifying. Seraphiel, flying slightly above his brethren, acted as a spoiler, sniping at anything that moved until he had run out of ammunition for both his Mauser and the pump shot gun he had scavenged prior to their departure from Vega. Once the bullets were gone he reverted to the curved sword he had taken from his student, wincing as it sang out in joy as it slaughtered any demonic entity it encountered. “Damn it, girl” he muttered, gutting another creature that leaped out at him. “If I had known you had this bloody thing in your possession…” He glanced at the dying creature, shaking his head as he recognized it as the ravaged face of what had once been one of his own choir, a Seraphim. “Stupid little git” he muttered, turning the body over, face first into the dirt. “Was it worth it? All those millennium suffering in Lucifer’s domain – only to die in this little mud ball?”

“Heads up!” Rafael’s voice boomed across the space between them. “We’re getting close!” Suddenly, the darkness parted, with hellish creatures skittering out of the way of the warrior angels as they stopped their forward momentum. A shrouded figure rose up in front of them, turning to look down from its place on a boulder. The archangels found themselves face to face with the angel Azazel, the creature calling himself the “First Fallen”, a handsome creature whose beauty might once have rivaled even Lucifer – if he had not lost it all in the tumble from Heaven’s parapets. His once smooth skin was lined with scars from his descent from the Heavenly realm, angry marks which never seemed to heal. His red-rimmed eyes, weeping bloody tears from damaged sockets, swept over his former brothers, a cruel smirk across his lined face. Around him, the demons the Fallen had brought with him to protect himself from his brothers cowered at his feet. Many had once been fierce fighters – but not fierce enough to withstand the fury of Heaven’s greatest warriors. The creatures now bowed and scrapped in front of their Master, hissing in terror at the angels who had manage to work their way through their ranks to the center.

Azazel waved a hand at them, motioning them closer. He gazed thoughtfully at the group then bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile.

“I tried to END this world, Michael – why would I care if it lives on or not?”

The inflection was perfect. Gabriel’s voice to a tee – which made it all the more horrifying to hear it come from the lips of the Fallen. Azazel's mimicry of Gabriel's voice sent shivers through the angels, most especially since they all knew that the words had once been the Messenger's. The Fallen had watched with interest as the Archangels and their Seraph guard had worked across the blasted landscape towards him, mentally calculating how he would turn them against each other; break their spirits and then their bodies – starting with the most damaged of the lot. Gabriel. His love for his child and for his brother’s lady was weaknesses he could exploit. His scars from bearing the Void – the Darkness the Almighty had once called up as a weapon - could be useful as well. The younger twins – Uriel and Rafael – wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Rafael’s only weak point was his twin. Any threat to the safety and well-being of his “little one” could be used to make him teeter on the edge of madness. Uriel, their youngest, was not so “innocent” anymore having begun this quarrel with his brothers over his “love” for his human charge – a crime his brothers had been condemned to the pits of Hell for yet their Father’s Light was spared. And then there was Michael – the Sword. His reticence had already cost him the Lady of the Sidhe and possibly the love and respect of his own twin. How much of a push would it take to destroy that smug, arrogance forever? 

Azazel smiled evilly at the Archangels as they lined up behind their huge shields, preparing to send him and his minions back to Hell. His dark rimmed eyes narrowed as he looked at the Messenger. “An interesting statement, Gabriel. Why would you care? I could make your decision easier for you. I could spare that hulking son of yours – what was his name again? Oh yes, Andre. I could spare him when my Son of Morning rises in the East – keep him safe while we destroy this failed experiment of Father’s. All you would have to do is swear allegiance to me.”

Gabriel’s fingers tightened on his sword. “Why would I trust a Fallen to keep his word?”

“Because it would benefit us both” Azazel purred, trying to work his way around Gabriel’s mental barriers, trying to see if he could pop loose enough of the remnants of Void the archangel still carried to make this tiresome battle interesting. “You get that boy of yours and I get … everything else.”

“My boy is safe enough with his blades in his hands. And I would see him dead by my own hands before I would let you near him.”

Seraphiel laughed from behind the lineup of Archangels, blood running from the wounds to his wings. He tucked the bloody blade back into its sheath, glad to not have to hear its blood thirsty voice in his ear for a while. “Azazel – it’s been a while since I had the distinct pleasure of hearing you run off at the mouth. I remember how you enjoyed hearing yourself blather on, brother. It seems somethings don’t change even in Hell.”

The Archangel’s snickered, closing ranks and following the old Seraph’s lead to distract and enrage their enemy. An angry foe was usually one who moved before they thought – an advantage for them. 

Azazel snarled, his mood suddenly black again. He remembered the eldest of the Seraphim line, remembered those steel grey wings slapping him down while the warrior angel retrieved his sword and sent him, screaming, into one of the many pits of Hell. “Hold your tongue, Seraph. It is not your place to speak such to the First Fallen.”

Seraphiel laughed even harder. “First Fallen? Lucifer was first into the pit, first Prince of Hell and a better adversary than you ever will be. He, at least, didn't whine and beg all the way down to his cage.” He gingerly picked his way around the corpses they had piled at the Fallen’s feet, kicking the occasional severed limb aside as he did.

Azazel glared back at the older figure. “I will see your head on a post for your insolence.”

“Boy, I’ve taken on worse then you with novice fighters at my back and broken weapons in my hand. What makes you think you can take me on with the best our Father has in front of me?”

The Fallen shifted his gaze from the recalcitrant Gabriel to Uriel who was in position behind his shield. “Little Uriel – all grown up” he sang, mad eyes flicking up and down the archangel’s tall figure and handsome features, licking his lips in appreciation. “And more than just a pretty face! You would be entertaining to have in my new kingdom, little one. I could teach you many interesting modes of pleasure – and you could teach them to that Chosen of yours. What was his name again? Oh yes – Damien. A Phoenix spirit. And your playmate as well. How romantic! What price would you pay, little bird, to save that lover of yours, hmmm? Or would you share him with a brother for old times’ sake?”

Rafael glanced worriedly at Uriel, seeing him shift his feet. “No, Uri. He’s baiting you just like he did Gabriel.”

“I know” Uriel replied, almost too coolly. “He isn’t clever enough to come up with something unique so must fall back on threats. My Firebird is safe enough on the battlefield – and this piece of filth will never put his hands on him. Not ever.”

“Good old Rafael” Azazel laughed, bouncing a look at the brawny Healer. “Always looking out for his baby brother. Never mind that brother has pledged himself to someone else. Never mind that your twin would see you broken and bleeding at my follower’s hands rather than see his lover harmed. How does that feel Raffi? To be abandoned by the one creature in all of creation you most loved?”

Rafael’s eyes hardened as he shifted his shield to cover the gap between himself and his brother. “Seraphiel’s right – you do like to hear yourself talk.”

Azazel’s eyes flicked across the line to Michael, the Sword, as stone cold and emotionless as ever. “I see you still love your sword Michael more than that little bit Father gave you to train. What was her name – the pretty Fae queen? Oh, yes. Miriam. I’m sure she would be MUCH happier as my queen than as your … student?” His smile was lecherous as he stared down the coming Flood. “Or perhaps I can interest you in something else? I’m sure there must be SOMETHING still left in this reality you haven’t bedded.”

Michael’s face remained still, emotionless as he stared down this ruin of what had once been a higher angel and their brother. “So the Guardians were right – you did have more than a few spies in Alex’s encampment. But it will do you no good. We will not be swayed. You and yours must be defeated, sent back to the pits of Hell where you belong.”

“Oh I seriously doubt that will happen” Azazel growled, growing weary of this game. “With you here – who will protect your pretty little humans? Who will protect your young dragon, Gabriel, who goes out with Michael’s useless human Chosen to fight an army of my brethren and my followers. Who will protect Uriel’s beautiful Phoenix who fights to protect weak mortals who will throw down their arms at the first sight of my Son of Morning rising up and smiting them, leaving the Firebird extinguished? And most especially that lovely little Fae bitch who you’ve thrown over, Michael, for some little human boy who may or may not be the savior you’ve dreamed of. They are even now facing down my armies outside of Vega without you.”

Seraphiel beat his steel grey wings and rose slightly above his taller brothers and looked towards Mallory. “Sure about that are you boy?”

Azazel whirled around … to see the horizon explode in fire and smoke.


	17. The angels return - but to what?

In the Library

“Well, that certainly sounds like one of Arthur’s mad plans” Jenkins commented dryly. “Kill them all and let God sort them out.”

Baird sighed. “Sometimes that’s what it take to win a battle.”

Michael shrugged. “Whatever their reasoning, the distraction was all we needed to overwhelm what remained of Azazel’s guard and allowed me to get close enough to send him back to Hell.”

“That and Seraphiel sacrificing himself” Uriel muttered.

Baird looked up sharply. “What was that again?”

Uriel looked up, his blue eyes gleaming. “Gabriel, Rafael and I were outnumbered, trying to hold our ground at the base of the hill when we saw more of Hell’s beasts crawl out to engage us. Somehow they managed to separate Gabriel and Michael, who were trying to use this distraction to make their way up towards Azazel. Michael was pinned down and the Fallen was gathering himself to flee when our Seraphim brother launched himself at the fiends, giving Michael enough space to make his way up and engage Azazel in combat. We never saw the Seraph again.”

“Wait – he’s dead?” Ezekiel exclaimed. “Wow – Ro’s NOT going to be happy about that!”

Baird shot a quick look at Michael, making note of the way his jaw tightened at the mention of Rowan’s affection for her former teacher. “I’m pretty sure, Jones, that Seraphiel wasn’t happy about dying either. Did you recover his body?”

The angel’s looked at her blankly. Rafael shrugged, “No – there was no time. We had to cleanse the earth around us of the taint of Hell’s minions then get back to Vega to ensure that all went well there.”

“So you left a man behind?” Baird tried, vainly, to bury her annoyance as she watched Michael’s reactions. “That isn’t supposed to happen – at least not in my military.”

“Nor in mine” Jenkins replied gruffly. “Arthur would have found a way…”

“Arthur” Michael interrupted, his voice harsh with anger “was not there. He and his siblings had taken that moment to leave us behind and return to their home.” He motioned to his brother’s to rise. “And now – we must also return to ours.”

“Wait!” Cassandra squeaked, jumping out of her chair. “We still don’t know all of the end of the story. When did you realize what had happened? What happened to Metatron? And how did Arthur’s father, Vladimir, fit into this? Gabriel said…”

“I said it took the magic of the old warlord to show us just what our young ones had done for Vega. What I didn’t mention was why he was in the city in the first place – or what else he presented us with.” Gabriel sighed and stretched his legs, settling back in his chair and ignoring his twin’s annoyed look. “That’s probably where we should take up this story next – when we returned to Vega.” 

In Vega

Alex looked up as the Archangels returned to the battlefield, looking bloodied and beaten yet at the same time triumphant. The battle in the city had been somewhat anticlimactic with a surprising ally appearing to help shore up their defenses - the soldiers from the city/state of Helena. The battered soldiers from the only other large enclave of humanity (along with their few remaining helicopters) had arrived just as the anarchists had started to make their push to dislodge Alex’s forces from their strongholds. It had been a mercifully short fight. His Vega soldiers had done well with what Alex had been able to provide them. The fighters from Helena had weapons of their own, including missile launchers, and been able to pass along guns taken from fallen members of their own group to Alex’s men. Now the soldiers of Vega and Helena together were cleaning up the field, looking for casualties from all sides, and with the Angels return things could start to return to normal – whatever that was. “Everyone make it back?” 

Michael looked back at his brothers, wiping the blood dripping into his eyes from a gash to his forehead. Battling uphill against animals who saw him as prey had not been easy though he had not suffered as badly as his twin or his middle brother. Gabriel was clinging to his middle brother’s arm, using Rafael as a post to stay upright with blood dripping from his wings and chest. He had almost been taken down by a group of demons who had tried to rip past him to stop Michael’s ascent up the hill towards Azazel. Rafael, their gentle Healer, had turned Berserker during the battle, trading his usual calm control for madness and thus had injuries of his own to deal with. Uriel, the biggest of the lot, looked tired, leaning on his sword and wiping the blood from his face. He, because of his size and strength (and his rage at the threat to his beloved Phoenix) had sustained the least amount of injuries though he most likely created the most amount of damage. Michael sighed, feeling bone weary. “Where is Seraphiel?” 

Gabriel glanced back, confused. “He was still standing when we sent that prick Azazel back to Hell. I thought he was behind Uri!”

Rafael shook his head, shifting his grip on his elder brother. “I saw him being overwhelmed by a group of demon spawn he was trying to keep off Michael’s back. Looked like he was holding his own so I turned back to what I was fighting. That old soldier was beat pretty bad but he was still on his feet. By the time I turned back around he had disappeared. I thought he would meet us here. Pretty damn impressive student you once had in him, brother.”

Michael shook his head wearily. “What talent he has with a blade was given to him by our Father. I only tried to better shape it.”

“We won if anyone is interested” Alex commented, noticing that Michael was scanning the battlefield with a jaundiced eye. “The forces from Helena joined with us to catch the opposing forces in a pincer maneuver. They never saw it coming.” He looked at the battered angels thoughtfully. “They mentioned being attacked by an opposing force that took out the Dyads they hadn’t even realized were in their midst then gave them a choice – go home or go help Vega. We were lucky their choice was to come here.”

Michael nodded, not really hearing his Chosen’s words. “Where is King Damien? Where are the Triad? Have they not returned?”

“Who?” Alex asked, a feeling of déjà vu sweeping over him. Michael had asked about these same people before they had left to battle this “Fallen” creature they were so worried about. At the time, he hadn’t thought much about it but now – seeing the looks of confusion being aimed at him – he wondered again what he had missed.

“The Triad” Michael replied, looking closely at the young soldier. “Our students who have been trying to help protect your city. Uriel’s companion Damien and Gabriel’s son Andre. My…former student Miriam. They returned to us a day ago when we were attacked on the street. Have they returned?”

Alex shook his head in confusion. “I hear you but I’m not understanding you. I don’t know ANYONE by those names. I didn’t even KNOW Gabriel had a son or that that you had a former student.”

Michael tore his eyes away from his Chosen to fix on Rafael, who was standing with head bowed. “Little brother” Michael began quietly. “What is going on here?” 

Gabriel looked up at the sibling he was still clinging to, eyes bright with pain and confusion. "Raffi?”

Rafael kept his eyes on the ground, unable to bear the confusion and fear in his siblings’ eyes. He wished with all his might the old Seraphim hadn’t gone down in the fight and left him to explain what had happened to their young ones all by himself. The Seraph had a rough edge when speaking to the Archangels and their pain would have not been of as much concern to him as it was to the Healer. “They’re gone” he mumbled, hoping against hope that Seraphiel would appear and repeat the story Miri had told them.

“Gone where?” Michael’s voice echoed emotionlessly in Rafael’s head.

The Healer took a deep breath and gently pushed Gabriel into Uriel’s arms as he stood back from his siblings. “They are gone. By our Father’s command the Triad we knew no longer exists. They have been erased from the book of life and three NEW lives have taken their place.”

“You’re not making sense” Uriel said angrily.

“Of course I’m not making sense” Rafael responded, helplessly. “Because it didn’t make sense to Seraphiel or I when Miri explained it to us before they left to fight Azazel’s followers. All she could say was that Father had made use of that prick Metatron along with Damien’s hedge mage Merlin and a couple of other powerful magic users to eliminate one reality and replace it with another. A reality where our young ones were NEVER mentored by us, never loved by us and yet still became the guardian’s our Holy Father meant for them to be.” He shrugged, too emotionally and physically tired to argue. “That’s why they were just a little off when they returned and took up the fight. Because they were trying to mimic personalities they knew only a little about, trying to keep us from realizing the changes had occurred until they could get on the battlefield and do what was expected of them. Seraphiel saw it – I only wish I had seen it sooner.”

Gabriel looked back at his twin in confusion. “Michael?”

Michael’s mind was whirling, trying to reconcile what his younger brother was saying with what he had seen of Miri before she had left him to join her siblings. How could he have not noticed there was something off about her? In hindsight he had to admit – she had been too quiet, not trying to push all his buttons to see what it would take to annoy him into a fight. “When did you both realize something was wrong?” he asked quietly, trying not to dwell on the fact that the Seraphim had seen something wrong in his student and he, who had known Miri since she was a teenager, had not.

“I didn’t – until I saw the young dragon on the street facing off to humans from Alex’s forces who thought to kill him as a strike at Gabriel.” 

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “What! Why didn’t you tell me that before? Who threatened my child?”

Rafael waved off the Messenger, who had surged out of their youngest siblings arms at his words. “Calm down, brother, the boy was fine. Too fine. When I landed I saw that he had used Fae magic to stop the bullets on their trajectory, gathering them in a clump in front of him, still vibrating. And at his back I could see the shadowy form of his spirit animal, his dragon, mirroring his every move.”

“That’s bullocks” Gabriel snarled. “That spirit animal has never taken form – it only gave him his power and immortality.”

“And that” Rafael agreed solemnly, “is why I knew this wasn’t exactly the boy we both knew and loved. That – and the fact he didn’t see a problem with putting down the men who attacked him like they were rabid dogs. Both he and his brother simply dismissed the taking of the human’s lives as a part of fighting a war.”

“What did Damien have to do with an attack on his brother?” Uriel asked, concentrating on supporting his wounded sibling. None of Rafael’s story made any sense – yet he believed that his brother was speaking the truth as he knew it. Uriel gripped Gabriel’s arms, wondering whether all of this was merely the Triad’s way of keeping their angels from fracturing their carefully rebuilt unity and allowing them to go out after the Fallen without worrying about their young ones.

“I saw the Phoenix spirit in all its fiery glory land and Damien step out of its flames” Rafael replied heavily. “He took the spell from his brother and turned the shells into flaming projectiles that he sent back to the attackers, killing them outright or setting to burn alive.”

Uriel’s eyes went wide. “My Chosen could never…”

“Yes he could” Rafael snarled, tired of his brother’s inability to see what, in hindsight, had been so clear to Seraphiel and himself. “He could and he did. He was ready to allow Andre to break the leader of the mob’s neck so that Miri could interrogate his spirit when the munitions depot went up in flames. She ended up using the shadow bow he said was given to her by one of “elder gods” that human’s once worshiped who have taken refuge in the land of the Fae. I think he said her name was Artemis – and they all seemed to think it was very amusing that Miri was so good with that little piece of magic, never mind the fact she had just killed someone running away from her.”

Alex watched, perplexed, as the angels argued over names he felt he should know but didn’t. “Look, whatever is the problem here can’t we discuss it somewhere else? I’ve got wounded men that need tending to and you lot look like you could use some help as well. Whatever this issue is, you’re not going to solve it standing out here.” He squinted behind Rafael, watching as tendrils of fog seemed to start flowing from out of the surrounding ruins. “Michael” he said quietly. “I think we have a problem.” He motioned to the rising damp as it started to thicken, dropping the ambient temperature to as cold as the desert night.

Michael watched the fog spread with a frown. “We have an open door into the ether” he snarled, motioning his brothers to form behind him. “Something or someone is coming through.”


	18. Vlad explains - truth hurts

In the Library

“You all had a really rough landing back in Vega, didn’t you?” Baird said sympathetically. 

Gabriel shrugged, his face impassive. “It was a difficult time. We should have seen something was wrong when the young ones weren’t at each other’s throats – especially Miri and Damien. But we were so glad to have them back that we…”

“Gabriel” Michael interrupted. “Finish this story.”

“Worried brother Lucifer is going to pay us a visit?” Stone asked, sarcastically. 

“Why would Lucifer visit the great Library?” Uriel looked across at all the Librarians with suspicion.

Flynn shrugged, nervously. “Well, I had been wondering why he hadn’t shown up looking for Arthur and Rowan. He seemed surprised to find out what had happened to them and pretty anxious to get to know their “new” personas – especially Khan’s. Those two seemed to really hit it off.”

“Same taste in whiskey” Stone quipped. 

Gabriel went deathly still. “My son and that Fallen animal…”

Baird waved him off. “I think once Lucifer realized what had happened to Rowan and Arthur he became more interested in yanking Michael’s chain than really getting his hooks into those three. Besides which, I think Rowan would have drugged his booze if he had tried.”

Ezekiel laughed. “Yeah, I can just see her slipping some Adderall or Ritalin in his flask just to see if she could get him to stick with one thought for more than a minute.”

Rafael choked back a laugh. “Now THAT sounds like our little cat. Not impressed with anyone – much less the Prince of Hell!”

Michael rolled his eyes and glared at his twin. “Finish the story, Gabriel.”

Gabriel carefully relaxed his tense grip on the chair and leaned back, remembering that moment when the truth had been revealed to them.

In Vega

Michael shoved Alex behind him, motioning his brothers to step back away from the growing fog. All around them, sunlight was being extinguished as the gray tendrils of mist from the Ether blotted out the sun. In the distance he could see three figures moving slowly towards the group and the shadows of others milling around behind them. “Hold! Identify yourself!” he called out, pulling one of his twin blades for emphasis.

Two cloaked figures stopped at the sound of the angel’s voice, their staffs held tightly in hands covered by metal gauntlets. They kept their hoods up, keeping their faces in the shadows – all but their fiery eyes which swept over the humans and angels with interest. They stood silently behind the central figure who moved forward out of the mist to stand in front of defenders. This creature was garbed in an elaborate chainmail and leather hauberk, armor that was still covered in a substance that smelled to the angels like blood. Whoever this was, he was taller even than Rafael, though his physical build was hard to make out under the gambeson and chain. He was carrying a tall kite shield with an elaborate coat of arms depicting swords and roses and a Crusader sword strapped to his back. The helmet’s visor down, covering the soldier’s face except for a slit for the eyes which seemed to be eyeing the group with amusement. Stopping in front of the archangels, the warrior handed off his shield to the figure on his left and removed his helmet and chain coif, shaking his long dark hair out of his gaunt face.

“No!” Uriel gasped in surprise. “It can’t be! You’re dead! I was there when Damien put you on your funeral pyre and sent your ashes into the air!”

Vladimir, son of Vlad, grandson of Alexandru, oldest of the exiled royal house of the Fae smiled at the Archangels, his pointed canines just barely visible. “I got better” he replied in amusement. 

Michael’s hand hovered over the pommel of his blades. “What are you doing here, leech? Where are our young ones?”

Vlad raised one eyebrow in mock surprise. “I’m almost offended, Archangel Michael, that you would use that term – and tone – with me. Surely the Almighty has taught you better manners when speaking to someone of my generation?”

Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance. “The term is accurate no matter what generation you are part of. Answer the question.”

Vlad shrugged. “I have no idea where my children are. Mostly likely they are on their way back to Khan’s monastery to check on our wounded. But as I have a few packages to deliver to you, curtesy of my son and my new foster…”

“Your new WHAT!” Gabriel growled, trying to shrug off his younger brother’s grip on his arms. Uriel grimaced as he dug in, trying to keep Gabriel still without hurting him anymore than he already was.

“My new foster” the old warlord purred with a smile. “Lovely boy, almost as tall as I am, built like the side of a barn with a quick mind and a wonderful sense of humor. He and Arthur will get along famously and, of course, my baby girl will have yet another annoying male to watch out for. Poor child – much as I enjoy having her undivided attention I think she grows weary sometimes of playing mother hen to the men in her family. But then again – sometimes I think she rather enjoys it too much.”

“You TOUCH my son and I’ll…” Rafael moved hastily to help Uriel restrain their now even more agitated sibling, trying to keep him from reopening injuries that had only just started to heal. Michael watched the figure in front of him impassively, taking note of the blood smear on the creature’s beard and the obvious youthfulness of one who should be presenting as an old man. The old leech had fed and recently. The only question was on who.

Vlad sighed. “Really, you would think I was threatening to mount him on a stake instead of welcoming him into my house. Not that staking him is something I would have considered – the boy is much too polite and honorable to merit that sort of reprimand. Ah well, as I’ve told Arthur – you can’t please everyone.”

“Who is Arthur?” Uriel called out, wrapping his arms around Gabriel to keep him still.

“My eldest son” the warlord replied with another unnerving smile. “I believe you knew him in his previous incarnation as Damien.”

Michael’s heart went cold. “Then the story told to Rafael was true? The Triad has been…”

“Let’s just they have been re-envisioned” Vlad replied calmly. “Made into a newer, more stable grouping, the better to do the All Father’s work. And speaking of the Triad…” he motioned to the two figures at his side. “They sent you a few parting gifts.” 

One of the guards reached into a pouch hanging from his belt and pulled out a small tablet, one Uriel remembered seeing Gabriel’s son playing a game on before the rift between the Triad had exploded. The guard held it out to his Master, hissing something none of them could hear.

Vlad looked down and grimaced. “This one goes to Michael, though Khan believes Uriel will have to help you access its memory. It contains a magical representation of the battles they fought to protect this city from Azazel’s minions. My suggestion is, if possible, connect it to something like a large screen TV, before you turn it on. The experience of watching my children on the warpath, exterminating anything that stands in their way, won’t be the same without a large screen to watch it on.” He tossed the tablet to Michael with a grin.

Michael handed it off to Uriel without a glance, watching the figures moving behind the old Warlord and his guards. “What else is out there, old leech? Who else have you brought with you?”

“Oh them!” Vlad drawled sarcastically. “They actually belong to you lot. We’re just returning them.” The two figures on either side of him turned back into the fog and returned shortly leading two prisoners with canvas sacks tied around their necks. Both of the captured beings, bent double by the weight of the package they carried, wore linen bags over their heads to conceal their identities. Both were covered from head to toe in soot and blood. With a quick shove the prisoners were sent hurtling towards Michael and Alex, landing on their knees just short of the defenders. With a thin smile, Vlad walked up and snatched the bags from the prisoner’s heads, revealing…

“Noma?” Alex gasped, falling to his knees beside his onetime friend/lover who had betrayed him only a few months earlier. Then she had been lovely and terrifying to look at with spread of white feathered wings almost as large as Gabriel’s. Now, the once beautiful young angel looked the worse for wear, smoky residue covering her face and blood dripping from her shoulders. She sobbed as she fell into her former friend’s arms “My WINGS! They took MY WINGS!” Alex glanced quickly into the sack that had been tied to her and shuddered in revulsion. What remained of large, white wings had been stuffed into the burlap sacks, the feathers now charred black and covered in ash and blood.

Michael looked down at creature in front of him with a frown, reaching out to pull the sack away. He grimaced at the sight of the “Voice of God” – Metatron – dry heaving in front of him, muttering madly to himself. The former scribe to the Almighty was in no better condition that his companion with blood streaks drying on his back and shoulders where his wings should have been. From the smell coming from the sack tied to the creature, Michael knew that what was left of his unimpressive wings were probably rotting away inside. 

“Father will curse them for what they did” the mutilated angel muttered over and over. “It isn’t possible that Father would condemn me this way, no matter WHAT HE SAYS!” Metatron’s voice rose to a shriek as he tried to rise.

Vlad sighed. “He’s been annoying like that since the kids tossed him into the Between. We finally had to put him into a sack just to have some quiet.” Reaching out to his guards, Vlad took the small baton he was handed and slammed it against the back of Metatron’s head, knocking him cold. “There. Now we can finish our conversation in peace.”

Michael grimaced. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“You haven’t had to listen to that drivel for the last few hours like we did” one of the guards muttered, hissing impatiently. 

“Who did this to them?” Alex growled, cradling the still sobbing young angel against his chest.

“Well” Vlad began, moving back to stand with his guard. “As I understand it, Arthur and Khan took this useless git of an angel’s wings when they were at the Loom of Fate to find out if their theory of an outside force acting on their reality was correct. It was, in case anyone’s interested. As for her…” he shrugged. “I believe Ro and Khan held her down while Arthur cut her wings away enough for his siblings to tear them from her back. And before you get on your high horse about this, Archangel Michael, they had been told that a tribunal appointed by your Father had already judged and sentenced them. So technically, my children were merely carrying out the will of the All Father. Though in the case of Metatron they did put the cart slightly ahead of the horse. But then again – he had been judged guilty so no harm, no foul.” He and his guards turned and started back into the fog, Vlad dusting his hands on his chain mail as they went. 

“Wait!” Rafael shouted, looking up from his elder brother’s injuries. “Our young ones – why have they not returned to us?”

Vlad turned slowly, his face almost skeletal in the fading light. “Thank you for reminding me, Archangel Rafael. I have one more little item to deliver.”

“What would that be?” Michael asked coldly, stepping over the prone body of the wingless angel in front of him.

“A message from the Royal House of the Fae, from the Crown itself. King Phoenix, Arthur the once and future King, and his Lady Queen, Rowan, Lady of the Moon do hereby command you to know that the Black Gates are now closed and barred to you and your brethren. None of you will be allowed entrance into the Fae lands, not now and not for the foreseeable future. Their fates have changed and they have chosen to bow to the will of the Almighty in regards to those changes. As far as they are concerned, you are strangers to them and they, for now, would like to keep it that way. Do not try to enter the Gates or the Dragon Temple or any other entrance into their sovereign realm. To do so will be considered an act of aggression and will be met with force.” He turned and started back into the depths of the fog, pulling its darkness along with him until he and his companions has disappeared – and the sun had reappeared over the stunned heads of the defenders of Vega.

In the Library

“Wait – so they locked you out of their house?” Stone said in amazement. “Can they even do that?”

“Fae realm and all the lands that swear allegiance to the throne are considered sovereign. We have no right to enter unless invited.” Rafael sighed as he remembered the look on Uriel and Gabriel’s faces when the old Warlord’s words had sunk in. “Before, when they were our children, it was of little importance. We were always welcome. But after the old leech delivered his final message from the Triad…”

“Arthur said we were not to talk about his father’s “condition” – it wasn’t polite.” Ezekiel shrugged as all eyes locked on him. “What! That’s what he said.”

“Polite conversation be damned. The Black Gates were locked and barred to our kind and by order of our own young ones” Gabriel snarled, gripping the arm of the chair. “We all tried to make entrance, Uriel, Rafael and I but no door would open for us. Only Michael chose to abide by their decree and not attempt to force himself on the Fae court.”

“What would have been the point of throwing myself against a Gate I knew would not allow me in?” Michael whispered. “If I had thought any action of mine would have reunited you with your child…”

“It doesn’t matter, little one” Gabriel sighed, holding out a hand to his twin. “I knew there would come a day when my boy would need to separate from me, to be his own creature. I just never expected it to be in this manner.”

Michael stiffly took his twin’s proffered hand, gripping it tightly. “Forgive me, brother. This was all on me. My arrogance, my stubborn need to prove that the humans of that reality could be saved and turn again to Father with love has cost us all.”

“No – that’s not what this is about” Jenkins replied sympathetically. “Arthur and Rowan saw this situation for what it was – a threat to their people and to the realities that they protected. They and Master Khan would have chosen the same path, to fight in Vega, no matter what the ultimate outcome. I know my King and my friend well enough to be sure of that.”

“Arthur’s father didn’t say you were banned forever.” Flynn leaned forward, looking into Gabriel’s shadowed eyes. “He said for the foreseeable future. That’s not forever.”

“No – that’s just until the three of them can get their heads wrapped around what changed from one reality to the next” Baird mused, remembering her own time of bouncing from one thread of life on the Loom to another, always landing in a reality where she had died and her Librarians had moved on. “Ro wouldn’t want to let anyone near her brothers until she was sure of what the outcome of that meeting would be. So my advice – for what is worth – is to give them time.”

“Time?” Uriel replied, wearily. “How much time? How long are we expected to pretend that these beings who we have given so much to no longer exist in our minds and hearts?”

“As much time as it takes” Flynn responded. “As much time as they need to get use to the idea there was once another different reality that included them, one where things happened or didn’t happen in this one. Give them time to get to know each other again, to understand what is being asked of them. If they need help – they will ask for it. If not – then accept that they are who they wish to be and if you want some sort of relationship with them you will have to accept it too.”

“Uriel, that will mean you must accept that the young King may NOT be inclined to return as your lover” Gabriel whispered, looking sadly up at his towering sibling. “I know you don’t want to hear that – but the man has the right to live his life as he chooses – especially now that Father has given him the gift of a second chance.”

Uriel hung his head, trying to hide his eyes from his older brother. “I can’t help the way I feel” he muttered. “He is still part of me, part of my heart and grace. How can I just let him walk away?”

“You don’t have a choice” Cassandra said softly. “Because sometimes if you love someone you have to let them go.”

“That’s a massively stupid statement” Uriel grumbled uncomfortably.

“But a true one” Gabriel commented, smiling at the pretty redhead. “My thanks, little Librarian, for your sympathy. We will do as your Master Librarian and Guardian have suggested and wait in hopes that once our young ones have found peace within their own minds they will find it in their hearts to reach out to us.” He rose stiffly, stretching as he did so, and wrapped an arm around his twin. “There might even be hope for you, brother mine.”

“Maybe” Stone commented. “Arthur says the girl has friends everywhere. Maybe she’d be willing to have friends in Heaven as well.”

“Perhaps so” Gabriel said quietly. The room grew cold and airless for a moment as the angels huddled together and just as quickly as they came they disappeared.


	19. So it ends - but not really

In the Library

Jenkins sighed. “Now I really DO wish I had manage to talk to Arthur before he disappeared. It seems what he and Rowan got into was much more than just a few ground skirmishes to distract an opposing force.”

Cassandra nodded thoughtfully. “And we ALL forgot to ask if the angels ever found out who Metatron was talking about when he said “HE” told them God had condemned him.”

“Maybe they didn’t now” Ezekiel mused. “Or maybe they didn’t think we needed to know.”

“Probably the latter” Stone said quietly. He started re-arranging the chairs around the table, running the events they had just heard about through his mind. “Wonder what happened to Michael’s student – what was his name again? Alex?”

“Poor Michael” Cassandra’s voice dripped with sympathy. “He seemed so sad.”

“Blames himself for his brothers losing their kids” Stone replied gruffly. “I guess he figures God did this to punish them for … something. Not sure what.”

Flynn stared off into space, his mind a whirl of unanswered questions. “Maybe we should hear this from Arthur and Rowan’s side of this story.”

“We sort of did” Baird pointed out calmly. “Personally, I’d like to know what really happened to Seraphiel on that battlefield. I can’t imagine eternal soldiers like the Archangels just leaving a man behind.”

“I can” Stone growled. “Pretty obvious Michael didn’t like Seraphiel’s being close to Rowan. Maybe he didn’t intentionally mean to leave him behind. Probably did think his brother angel was dead and gone – but he sure didn’t seem broke up about not looking for him.”

“I wish there were a way to get a message to Arthur and see what he knows about this” Jenkins said, staring at the mess of books and papers still on the table. “Maybe if Cassandra were to send a message to the House of Refuge…”

“Maybe its Caretaker will forward along our message to Ro.” Cassandra’s voice filled with enthusiasm. “I’m sure he would if I asked. And then we can all meet there and hear the parts of the story the angels didn’t fill in – like battle stuff for Eva and maybe some fun stuff for the rest of us.”

“Fun stuff? Red, what exactly do you define as “fun stuff?” They went into a war zone, after all, not like they were spending a weekend at Mardi Gras.” Baird smiled at the young librarian’s enthusiasm, even if it was a tad naïve.

“Speaking of Mardi Gras – and New Orleans – maybe Ro’s friend that you met there can send a message to her. That witch, Marie Laveau?” Flynn’s voice brimmed with enthusiasm. “And while we’re at it maybe we can talk to Ms. Laveau about magical artifacts that she might become aware of that she can warn us about!”

“Flynn” Baird sighed. “Sometimes you really don’t have a clue, do you?”

In New Orleans

Marie Laveau stirred her cooking pot, watching the events in the library unfold on its watery surface. “Ma Cherie” she called out musically. “They have gone from the Great Library.”

A graceful figure in a clingy sheath glided out of the shadows. “Hmmm… took them long enough.” Rowan, Queen of Fae and Lady of the Moon, glanced over her friend’s shoulder at the magical urn. “I’m betting the Librarian’s still have questions.”

Marie shrugged. “They do. They are Librarians – gathering knowledge is part of their DNA.”

Rowan snickered. “You really are acclimating to modern times if you can use the term DNA with a straight face.” She waved a finger over the pot, dissipating the picture. “So, now we have a choice. The angels know we survived the battle and the Librarians know there is more to the story than they have already been told. Do we get everyone in a room and hash it all out? Or do we hope that everyone gets bored and moves on to shinier things?”

“I think” the beautiful Creole witch replied with a smile. “That you have already made up your mind on what needs to be done.”

Rowan smiled. “Yes – I suppose I have. Tell me, old friend, what do you say to attending a Halloween party with the Devil?”

“I say you should probably warn him first that his guests might not all be to his taste – and then sit back and watch the fun begin.” The sound of feminine laughter floated out into the French Quarter as the sun set over another beautiful New Orleans day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 ends - but part three begins. And since Halloween is right around the corner (sort of) seems like a good jumping off place for the next chapter.


End file.
